Darkest Angels
by timidvoice
Summary: The third and final part of my story opens with the shadowhunters on the brink of war with Valentine. Their only hope for victory may rest with Jace, Clary, Derek, Chloe, Simon, Rae and Tori, the genetically altered children of the Edison Group.
1. Road to Redemption

Road to Redemption

The door to the room burst open and the hinges came loose, sending the door swinging out of control. Chloe, pressed against the wall on the far side of the room, covered her face with her arms and sank to the floor. She reached desperately for her powers, hoping they might protect her for just once. They didn't, of course, and a group of faceless figures poured into the room.

Chloe looked on horrified as they began kicking things over wordlessly. She watched the figures through her arms, and tried not to cry out for help. They were dressed in grey: grey pants, grey shirts, grey shoes, even their skin seemed to be grey. They were wearing masks that covered their faces, and only small eye holes gave any indication that they were people at all.

When they finished destroying the room, they turned on her. Chloe threw up her hands in an attempt to curse, and one of the figures moved forward and brought his hand down hard on her arm. The arm broke with a crack, but Chloe didn't feel it, she was so scared. Her eyes darted desperately to the door, to look for help.

"Derek!" she cried, falling back against the wall. "Derek!"

"He's not coming now," said a soft voice that Chloe did recognize. "We've taken care of the puppy." Chloe's head darted back and forth, looking for the man who was speaking. "But that sort of thing happens when a dog bites the hand that feeds it. Derek was too dangerous for his own good. Just like you."

"What did you do to him?" Chloe demanded, stilling trying to find the doctor in the faceless crowd pushing in on her. "Where is he?"

"He's gone, just like the rest of your freak friends." A person moved forward and Chloe flung out her good arm. She landed a good bow on the man's face. "Insolent little brat!" snarled the man.

Through his mask, Chloe could see a pair of cold grey eyes. They were devoid of emotion, even after the furious outburst, and when they turned on her, they simply hardened more. "None of your kind should even be alive," he breathed. "It's disgusting how you live. You're all cowards and animals."

"Liar!" hissed Chloe, moving forward again. "And who are you, hiding behind that mask?"

"Be carefully, little girl," said the man, and he reached behind his back for something sharp.

"_You _are a coward!" Chloe cried, and looked around one last time for help. She heard muffled shouting for the first time, and saw shadows moving beyond the bedroom door. "I'm here!" she screamed. "I'm in the room."

The man looked back, and for the first time, seemed agitated. "The boy," he breathed. "Should have dealt with him myself."

"Help me-"

"No one's coming to help you, Chloe," snarled the man, turning back on her fast and finally drawing the weapon from behind his back. It was a sword, a long deadly sword. "It's too late for help. I'm going to finish this."

Chloe was staring hard at the door, wondering who was coming, and why the man was so mad. If it wasn't Derek, and it _was _a boy, who was it? Who could fight like that? Chloe tried to move just a little, to see who her might-have-been hero was, but the man brought the sword to a point at her throat. It quivered there, ready to draw her blood and end everything. Chloe wouldn't take her eyes away from the door, not if she was going to die this way.

"Look at me, Chloe," ordered the man. "Look at me Chloe. Chloe. Chloe…

"_Chloe_!"

With a painful start, Chloe sat up in bed, twisting the blankets in her hands. She looked about frantically and found herself face to face with Derek. His wide green eyes took in her terrified face and shaking body, and he very gently laid his hands on her shoulders. Chloe was still glancing around madly when Derek pulled her into his arms and tucked her against his chest.

"Chloe, it was just a dream. Please, calm down." Derek smoothed Chloe's hair, humming softly in his throat. It was enough to stop her from looking around, but not enough to calm the shaking. "Chloe, it's okay."

Chloe leaned against Derek's side, trying to breathe and push the image of the man with the sword out of her mind. It was hard. All she could remember was his grey eyes, and how hard and cold they were when they landed on her. She never wanted to see those eyes again.

"It wasn't a dream, Derek," she said simply, shivering against him. Derek was very warm, Chloe decided, like his temperature increased just because he was a werewolf. "He said you were dead."

Derek blinked once. "Well, I'm not dead, am I? I'm sitting here with you, and you're safe, and whoever he is, he won't get to you." Derek stroked the hair off Chloe's face and he smiled down at her. "Everything is okay."

Chloe closed her eyes slowly and breathed in deeply. She concentrated on the feeling of Derek's hands on her, the gentle, warm pressure that was pushing down on her, and the feeling of protection that emanated off him. He was a werewolf, that's all she could think, he was protective werewolf. The dream still kept flashing before her eyes, but the longer she clung to Derek, the more it seemed to break apart.

"I thought you were dead, Derek," she said finally. "It was horrible. He kept saying we were all going to die."

"It was dream," he said firmly again.

"But it seemed so real," pressed Chloe. "Like it was a memory."

"Well," said Derek simply, "have you seen the man before?"

"No." Chloe shook her head, considering. "But he mentioned a boy, a boy he said he should have taken care of. And I thought it was you, but it wasn't, and I couldn't see anything, and…"Chloe trailed off, lost in the nightmare. "I don't know, Derek. I just don't want to see it again."

"You won't, Chloe, I promise," Derek vowed softly, and then he bent his head and kissed her very firmly on the lips. It was like he was trying to push the nightmare away, and, for Chloe, it was working. She felt the lingering images of the nightmare fading away, and she curled her hands up into his hair and pulled Derek closer to her.

They were tangled together for a while, and when Chloe pulled away from Derek, the sun had painted the morning sky a flaming red. She smiled a little to herself, thinking about her chances of getting any work done today with the combination of the nightmare and Derek's kissing. She stretched a little, still in the circle of Derek's arms, and then hopped out of the bed. Derek watched her from the bed and admired the view he was subject to. It wasn't bad.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Derek asked as Chloe shimmied a pair of jeans under her enormous shirt she wore to bed. "You know, I always hope you take that shirt off _before_ you get dressed."

"Fat chance," Chloe called over her shoulder when she turned to put a shirt on. "I think we have some lessons to go to. I'm supposed to work with Magnus anyway, and we're supposed to hear from that werewolf guy Clary and Jace know. So, training, I guess."

Derek yawned. "That's all we ever do, isn't it? We've been here for a two weeks and all we do is train. It's not like we're at war now, is it?"

Chloe turned to look at him with a stern face. "We promised we'd try to help, and anyway, if this Valentine guy really is planning a war, we've got to be ready to fight. He's not like the people at the Edison Group. They wanted us alive to study, he just wants us dead."

Derek's eyes narrowed and he slipped out of the bed, then crossed the room and drew Chloe back into his arms. "He won't touch you, Chloe."

"I just want to be prepared," she hedged. "I mean, Jace and Clary train all the time."

Derek titled his head a little at that. "They're shadowhunters, it's their job to train and fight."

"They're just like us," breathed Chloe. "They were with us at the Edison Group, and they're just like family."

"Okay, they are, but it's just hard to think of you fighting. I don't like it." Derek growled low in his throat and then kissed the top of Chloe's head. "I bet you anything Jace is already up and out there."

"I wouldn't take that bet if you paid me," answered Chloe, heading for the window.

"That would defeat the purpose of a bet," muttered Derek, and then joined her at the window. They looked out, spotted Jace, and Derek rolled his eyes. "He's such a showoff."

Jace was alone in the yard, spinning blades in his hands so quickly they were just blurs of silver. Every now and then, one would shoot out of his hand and lodge itself in a tree. He'd jump, turn, and roll every which way, as if it were an art, and he an artist. And he did it all with such ferocious grace that Derek was reminded of a lion.

"Break time." A voice floated over the grass through the early morning fog and made Jace fall out of jump. He landed awkwardly, but held his ground.

"Clary," he smiled.

Clary was yawning as she came across the grass carrying a plate with breakfast and a glass of orange juice. She watched Jace stretch and then prowl toward her, ignoring the food and watching her. She smiled under his scrutiny and when he was level with her, she rose on her toes, and kissed him.

"Good morning," she said.

"You too," he murmured, and, plucking a muffin from the plate, bit it, keeping his eyes on her. "Good breakfast."

Clary had the grace to blush. "You're training too much, you're going to hurt yourself."

"I've been out of shape for a while, Clary," he said tiredly, "and from what I hear, we've got some big problems ahead of us."

"If you mean Valentine-"

"I mean this blond kid too," cut in Jace. "He doesn't sound too pleasant, and someone's going to have to deal with him."

Clary wanted to tell Jace it wasn't his job, but she knew it was. It was Jace's job, and her job, and the Lightwoods, and anyone who was a part of this war. And who else was better equipped to deal with this kid, really? From what Isabelle and Alec had said, he was exceptionally well trained, so who could fight him? Jace was the best there was.

"We'll work together to deal with him," said Clary softly. "You and me, and Derek and Chloe and Simon and Rae and Tori. He isn't your responsibility, Jace."

Jace finished the muffin he was eating quickly, and then placed both his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with a small, sad smile. "I don't want them hurt, Clary. They really do have no idea what they're doing, and it's not their job to fight this war-"

"Oh, but it's yours?" Clary cut in a little angrily.

"Yes, actually, as I'm a shadowhunter."

"You're seventeen!" Clary cried, frustrated. "How can it be your job?"

"Because it is," said Jace flatly, and he leaned down and kissed Clary so hungrily that she dropped her plate of breakfast. He pressed her against him, forming her body to his, and held onto her, trying to memorize the small contours of her body. He had a flash of memory, of the Edison Group, and the last night they were there. He remembered Clary's determined look that night, and it reminded him that whatever was going to happen, she was going to trust him.

"There are children present, you know," said a very silky voice from behind Clary.

Jace released Clary, though he really didn't want to, and looked up at Isabelle. "I didn't know you still considered yourself a child, and that does raise questions about your relationships if you consider kissing a matter best dealt with behind closed doors."

"I meant Max," Isabelle snapped, frowning.

To Clary's immense embarrassment, Max peeped out from behind Isabelle and gave her a quick look before turning his eyes on Jace. "Will you teach me how to do that, Jace?"

Jace's smile quirked up a little. "I think you're a little young to learn about this," he said, nodding at Clary. "This is what adults do when they like each other, Max, and you're still too-"

"I meant the knives!" Max said quickly.

"He knows what you meant," Clary ground out, and slipped out of Jace's arms. "And I bet he'd love to teach you how to do that."

Max's eyes widened. "Really? Jace, will you show me? Please."

Jace sighed, and glanced quickly at Isabelle to see how she felt. Isabelle shrugged delicately and Jace straightened up. "Sure, Max. Go get the knives and I'll show you. It's only right for a shadowhunter to know how to fight."

"I'll borrow Clary for a few minutes, okay?" Isabelle called over to Jace, who nodded reluctantly. Isabelle gave an imperious wave to Clary, who left with Isabelle. Once they were beyond earshot of Jace, Isabelle turned to Clary and gave her a scrutinizing look. "You and I need to talk, girl."

"About what?" Clary asked quickly, feeling nervous.

"About what happened at the Edison Group," Isabelle said simply. "No one's been talking about it, and I think there's some stuff that we need to hear."

Clary bit her lip. "Jace doesn't like talking about it."

"That's why I'm not talking to Jace." Isabelle glanced at Clary's wide eyes and pressed lips and knew this was hard for her. "I know you feel like you're betraying Jace and everyone else, but we need to know what happened. If the doctors did anything else to you, we need to know. Magnus is worried enough as it is…"

"What is Magnus worried about?" Clary wondered.

"What you are."

Clary, who had been staring at her feet, felt her head shoot up. "We're the same as we've always been, Isabelle. There's nothing wrong with us."

"Well, we never knew exactly what you were to begin with. I mean, I've never seen a person like Jace. The way he fights…and you, with your runes…and even that Chloe girl."

"Jace is your brother," Clary hissed.

"I know that," replied Isabelle coldly. "But if he has powers that are beyond my knowledge, we need to find someone who can help him. Powers unchecked are dangerous."

Clary wanted to be mad at Isabelle, but she knew the girl was right. She had seen Jace act out of rage that day in the attic, and it had been scary. She had seen Chloe summon dead things just by screaming, and destroy demons with her bare hands. Whatever they were, it wasn't normal, and they needed to understand it before they could go on.

"What do you want to know?" Clary finally said.

Isabelle's eyes took on a strange look, part hopeful part terrified. "We just need to know what happened at the Edison Group, what you know about…well, about yourselves."

Clary's gaze drifted over to Jace, who was showing Max how to hold the knife properly. "Can we go inside?"

Isabelle nodded and they slipped through the doors and into the kitchen of Magnus's house. Magnus was in there, pouring himself a glass of what looked like apple juice. When he saw them come in, he raised his eyebrows and looked around quickly. None of the other children were present, so he purposefully strode over to the door, called for Alec, and then leaned against the counter.

"So, I hear you've got a quite a story for us," he said with slight smile.

Clary watched as Alec came in, carrying none other than her art book, his face dropped a little, and then he joined Magnus at the counter. Isabelle made a small noise in the back of her throat and jogged Clary's mind. She sighed to herself and then shrugged. "If you have my book, than you must have been at Lyle House, and I suppose you conducted a thorough search of the place?" Alec and Isabelle nodded and Clary gave a weak smile. "You must have been in the attic? You saw those cages-"

"Clary, whatever they did to you-"

"This has _everything _to do with that, because that's where it all really started. Enright took me up there to punish Jace, and he followed, of course. She locked me in a cage and told Jace he had to get in a cage too. He was angry, furious; he was screaming and cursing and he looked like he was half crazy. I mean, he looked like a lion, but a real lion. His hair was all on end and his eyes were locked on Enright like a lion before it kills. Even I was worried."

"The picture," Magnus breathed. "The picture of Jace in the room, you meant that to represent his change?"

Clary nodded sadly. "Yes. Enright told us that we were dangerous. That the changes they had worked in us had made us dangerous to society, and they were doing the only responsible thing by locking us all up. I wanted to think she was lying, but after seeing Jace's face I couldn't. He only ever gets like that when I'm in danger, but still, the fact that it happens worries me.

"These powers are uncontrollable. They're dangerous and explosive, and we can't control them unless we're somewhere we know is safe. That's why they had us in the nursery, they said it should have a calming effect on us, and it did. When we were there, we didn't have angry outbursts, we could control ourselves, we were better. But then they took us off the drugs, and things went crazy.

"We fought all the time, the boys especially. Derek and Jace were pretty bad, and Simon was always somewhere in the middle. And I guess, me and Tori and Chloe were just as bad. Those drugs were the only thing keeping us together, and now that we're off the drugs, I'm not sure how this is going to work."

"Jace seems to be okay," hedged Alec, seeing Magnus's narrowed eyes.

"I think having something to do, a way to channel his anger, is helping. At the Edison Group, they were trying to force us to exercise regularly. I think now that Jace can go back to demon hunting, he should be fine," she added quickly.

Alec nodded in agreement, but Magnus seemed disappointed. "So he is dangerous," he said evenly.

"No, don't you understand? As long as we've got a way of channeling-"

"Yes, I heard that, but what if you don't? What if one day you're in danger and Jace decides to take matters into his own hands? And what about the rest? Derek's a mad werewolf, Simon's a wild warlock, and you saw what Chloe did. These powers _aren't _safe."

"Well, what do you want us to do?" snapped Clary. "This is who we are, and there's no amount of magic that's going to change us. We just need to learn how to control it, and you telling us we're crazy animals isn't helping!" Clary had lost her temper now and was shaking angrily. "So what's your solution? Do you want to lock us up too? Because that's the only way to keep us safe I guess."

"That's not what I meant!" snarled Magnus. "But we're going to have to look for a way to control your powers."

"Well how about you just stick me and Jace and Derek and Chloe and Simon in the basement? That way, we'll be out of the way and mankind will be safe from us. Is that what you want?"

"Just stop it, Clary!" Magnus slammed his hand down on the counter. "You need to accept that you have darkness in you, and you need to remember that from now on."

"Like I could forget it!" Clary was stalking back and forth. "I was trapped there like some animal, and they experimented on us, and they tried to make us sleep together, it was horrible, and it was all because I have these powers, so just remember that!"

"Clary, Magnus stop!" It was Isabelle, and she standing between them now, and her eyes were frantic. "Please, both of you, it's not helping. I know this is hard, and I know you're both very tense about the whole thing, but we're not getting anywhere with this. Let's try and think this out rationally."

"There is no rational thought where we're concerned," sneered Clary. "Magnus said as much. You might as well do as the Edison Group said and lock us up. It's safest."


	2. Toxins

Toxic

When Jace came into the house, trailing a frantic Max, he found the scene before him very unsettling. Clary was shooting very dark looks at Magnus, which surprised him, and Isabelle and Alec were both very pale and quiet. Max, too, seemed to sense that something was the matter because he nudged Jace a little, and became very quiet.

"Well, you all look pretty pleasant," he said, coming into the kitchen and heading for the sink. "Real rays of sunshine, all of you." His eyes came to rest on Clary, who glanced his way and then down, her cheeks coloring bright red. "What happened?"

"We were just discussing a few things," Magnus said simply, waving his hands.

"Oh, what about?" Jace asked, edging closer to Clary. "Judging by the amount of anger and disgust in the air, I'd say your taste in shirts."

Magnus frowned and then looked pointedly at Alec to explain. Alec cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at Jace. "We were just asking about the Edison Group."

Jace frowned and his eyes darkened. "You shouldn't have asked Clary about it. You should have come to me."

Alec struggled to find words, but Isabelle was faster. "Jace, you didn't want to talk about it. No matter what we say, you just blow it off, and we needed answers. Clary was okay with it."

"She doesn't look okay," Jace said coldly, and then he drew Clary into his arms protectively. "Did you ever think there was a reason I didn't want to talk about it? Did you even _think _that maybe other people didn't want to talk about it?"

"Jace," sighed Magnus, and he looked very purposefully at the boy."We can't really start this training until we have all the answers. I need to know what happened so I can try to help you. You could be in danger."

"You mean, I could be a danger," Jace ground out. "I know what you think, Magnus, and I'm sick of hearing it. I'm not a monster, none of us are, and you keeping acting like we're just going to unhinge and go on some murdering rampage."

"That's not what we think-" began Alec, but Jace cut him off.

"Don't lie to me, Alec. I can see it every time you look at me. You don't understand it, because you're trying not to think about it, but you feel the same way Magnus does. You're afraid of us."

"I'm not afraid," said Alec stoutly. "You're just acting like a miserable, misunderstood teenager!"

"Well, maybe want to be a misunderstood teenager," Jace shot back. "Maybe I deserve it! The man I thought was my father turned out to be lying to me all my life, he had me experimented on, faked his death and handed me off to you, and is still trying to track me down. To top that all off, I still don't know who my real father is, and now I've got strange powers to deal with, coupled with you and Magnus whining at me night and day about my inability to control myself." Clary could feel Jace shaking beside her, and when she looked up, his eyes were glazed over.

"Jace," Clary said softly, tugged his arm gently. "Jace, are you okay?"

"No, Clary," he said loudly. "I'm not okay."

"You're shaking," said Magnus in a strange monotone, staring hard at Jace. "And your pupils are dilated. Is your heart beating faster? Do you have a fever?"

Jace made an angry face. "I'm fine," Jace ground out.

"Listen to him, Jace," Clary said firmly. "You're not alright."

"I'm fine," Jace breathed, but his grip on Clary tightened painfully. "I just need some water."Jace leaned back against the counter and his breath came out in a loud sigh.

"You're sick," came a very firm voice from the door to the kitchen. It was Derek, and he was looking severe. "You're sweating more than usual and you have a fever."

"How the hell-"

"No offense, Jace, but I can smell you," he said, coming into the kitchen. "It probably has something to do with coming off the drug regimen. I was like this for a little while the first time we got away from Lyle House."

"I'm not sick," hissed Jace, but his voice came out raspy.

"You're not healthy either," put in Alec, glad that they had moved away from such a touchy subject. "Maybe you should go back to bed? "

"No, I don't need to sleep-" Jace began, but broke off as a shudder tore through his body. "Maybe a healing rune…"

"It's drugs, Jace," said Derek, coming over and inspecting him closely. "There's no healing rune designed to help you fight the DT's. You should be in bed, not practicing fighting."

Jace shot Derek a mutinous look. "Just let me take care of it, werewolf."

Derek smirked. "Think that really hurts me feeling, shadowhunter? I'm not ashamed of what I am; I'm proud to be a werewolf. Can you say the same?"

"Derek, what are you doing?" Clary hissed, but Derek ignored her, his eyes on Jace.

"I'm a shadowhunter," snapped Jace. "There is nothing better to be than-"

"I mean," said Derek loudly. "Are you ashamed of being a shadowhunter who has uncontrollable powers? Do you not mind being a freak of your own race?"

Jace's eyes narrowed to slits, and Alec prepared to lunge between the two boys, but it didn't make a difference. When Jace wanted to move quickly, he moved quickly. There seemed to be a flash of gold, and Jace and Derek were suddenly rolling across the kitchen floor. At first, Clary was panicking, trying to break the two up, draw Jace's attention away, anything that might calm him down, but she noticed how Magnus didn't seem at all upset by the ruckus tearing his kitchen apart. She gave him a quizzical look.

"Derek seems to be handling it well," was all he said, and then placed a hand out to freeze Alec.

Clary's attention was drawn away suddenly when she heard an angry snarl and saw Derek grab both Jace's arms and force them behind his back. Jace made a grunting sound, but he very slowly began to stop squirming. Clary, Isabelle, and Alec, who had never once seen Jace give up in a fight, were amazed as they watched him slump on the floor. When Derek rose, he made a loud huffing sound and looked at them all.

"Someone put Jace in bed," he said simply. "He's sick."

"Yeah, because you beat the crap out of him!" snarled Isabelle.

"I didn't do anything to him." Derek nodded at Jace, who rolled on his side. "He's passed out. His heart was already beating too fast and he had a fever. All I had to do was hold him down and wait."

Clary wanted to be mad at Derek, she really did, but she couldn't deny that what Derek had done was the only smart thing. Jace wouldn't have gone to bed willingly, and someone had to force him to get mad enough to cause a minute panic attack. She very carefully sank down beside Jace and brushed the hair off his face, listening to his even breathing. Isabelle came closer and tested his pulse, but it must have been fine because she didn't lunge at Derek.

"Can someone move him to our room?" Clary asked after a deadening silence. "Don't leave him on the floor."

Alec made to move to him, but Derek seemed to feel it was his responsibility. He knelt and very quickly scooped Jace up off the floor and gathered him up in his arms. "Let me, Alec; I did it, let me take care of it." Derek raised his eyebrows at Clary, waiting for her to lead the way.

Clary left hastily, Derek following silently, and Magnus stared after them. "Once everything calms down, Alec, please go up there and restrain Jace."

"_What_?" Alec hissed.

"I can't have the children locked up, but Jace is your brother and he'll understand when he wakes up." Magnus saw the look in Alec's eyes and turned away.

"What about Derek or Simon? They seem pretty dangerous, and they're off their meds," said Isabelle angrily.

"I can't make _them _do that, Isabelle," he answered with a sigh. "But, like I said, Jace is your brother, and he'll understand why this has to happen. Anyway, Jace seems the most dangerous to me. He knows how to handle a knife."

"So does Clary," Max cried.

"Good point, young Maxwell," nodded Magnus. "See if you can't convince Clary to take a binding rune or something."

"This isn't funny, Magnus," breathed Isabelle, looking furiously at the warlock. "They could get sick. You saw Jace."

"Yes, I did see Jace." Magnus moved closer to Isabelle, his eyes glowing with magic. "I saw him come very close to becoming something _very _dangerous. And so did you! So don't try and judge me on my actions."

Isabelle's mouth opened and closed, but she couldn't find anything to say in return. She glanced over at Alec, waiting for him to rise to Jace's defense, but when he didn't, Isabelle's face dropped. She glanced about rapidly, saw that no one in the kitchen was going to agree with her, and slammed her foot down.

"Fine," she said loudly. "Fine, do what you like, make Jace hate you," she added to Alec. "I don't care. I'm going upstairs to sit with Clary and Jace."

Isabelle stomped out of the room, her black her swishing back and forth furiously. She stormed through the house, making as much noise as she could, and arriving at Jace's bedroom in a fit. When she pounded on the door, there was the pitter patter of feet and the panicked flutter of voices.

"Let me in," Isabelle said loudly. "I'm not here to do anything to Jace or Clary."

A second passed and Chloe threw open the door. She was looking very drawn and worried, and when she saw Isabelle, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want, Isabelle?" she asked as kindly as she could.

"I just want to see Jace; he's my brother, after all," she said hopelessly. "I didn't do anything to him, you know, that was Derek."

"Derek was protecting Jace from himself." Chloe glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "Come in anyway."

Isabelle stepped passed Chloe into the comfortable room, and saw Jace curled up under a number of blankets shaking. Clary was sitting at his bedside, holding his hand, but she was looking very pale and weak, and Isabelle wondered if she too was falling ill.

"How is he?" Isabelle asked softly.

Clary was staring hard at Jace's prostrate form, and she seemed to sink deeper and deeper into herself. When Isabelle drew level with her, she gave Clary a little shake. "He's got a high fever and he's shaking and sweating."

"Why is it happening now?" Isabelle asked sharply. "They took you off the drugs weeks ago, so why is it just starting now?"

Clary shook her head silently, and Derek shrugged. Chloe, though, seemed to shift out of her apprehensive mood and answered. "It's probably because out bodies react to drugs like normal Downworlders. I mean, think of it like getting drunk, because alcohol and these drugs are both depressants. I assume it's hard to get a Downworlder drunk, and it would take a lot of time to do if you wanted to. The drugs probably work the same; it takes them longer to work their way out of our blood system. Jace is in the final stages of the drug, and its leaving his body now."

Isabelle gave her a surprised stare. "Where did Nurse Chloe come from?"

"My aunt was a doctor," Chloe replied stiffly.

"So is it going to happen to us?"

They all turned about, and in the door was Simon, Tori, and Rae looking very worried. "Happen to us?" Chloe said, confused.

"If Jace is detoxing, are we going to?" clarified Rae. "Are we all going to get sick and have to curl up in bed for a while?"

"It would stand to reason," said Tori grimly. "Maybe it'll just affect he shadowhunters first."

Clary heard it all but didn't really listen; she just watched Jace with hawk like eyes. She had told him, warned him, that he was going to get hurt, and now he was passed out in bed. He gasped and twisted the blankets tighter around him, his eyes moving rapidly under the lids. Clary reached out tentatively and grasped his hand in hers; to her horror, it was clammy and hot.

"Does this mean you're going to have to lock us up?" asked Simon with a very twisted smile. "It does seem like the best thing to do given the situation."

"No, we're not," Isabelle said thoughtfully. "We're not locking anyone up, but if you get sick I bet you'll want to be in bed, won't you?"

Simon flashed her a considering look, and she returned it with a superior smile. It was hard for Simon to understand Isabelle sometimes, and she made him feel on edge. Her dark eyes always seemed to be resting on him, and when he'd say something, she'd either raise one eyebrow skeptically or smile coyly. She seemed to like him and hate him all at once, and he didn't like discussing his fears with her in the room.

"I thought we needed to help in this fight?" Chloe muttered, her gaze out in the distance. "Little good we're doing if we're trapped in here."

"It should only take a few days for you to recover," reasoned Isabelle. "Luke isn't there yet to start training Derek, Magnus is always around for Simon and Tori and Rae, and we can start and stop Chloe's training whenever she feels like it." Isabelle looked about triumphantly. "A few days never hurt anyone, a few days won't matter."

* * *

><p>Valentine was growing tired of going up and down the elevator at the Institute. He felt like he's ridden it one time too many, and when all this was over, he was going to abolish the use of the ridiculous thing. Of course, when this was over, the shadowhunters wouldn't have to hide in the Institute, so there would be no more need for this place at all. No, all the shadowhunters would live brazenly to the world; no more hiding, no more stalking in shadows, and no more secret homes.<p>

_A world where we're admired and revered; a glorious dawn for the new age of the shadowhunters. _Valentine caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective glass of the elevator. _And I will lead it._

It was a sobering thought, and when the doors to the elevator opened, Valentine had a very satisfied look on his face. He walked proudly through the halls of the Institute, the way a leader would walk, and when he came to the study, he threw the doors open without pause. Arranged around the desk was Robert and Myrse Lightwood, Malachi, Jonathan, a few faceless others who had stirred when they heard that Valentine was returning.

"It's good to see you all here," he said by way of welcome. "I hadn't hoped for this many." The people all smiled at the words, though they didn't know it was a lie. But Valentine knew better than to show disappointment, no leader was every disappointed or surprised by his followers. "This puts us ahead a schedule."

"Valentine," said Myrse looking severe, "I don't think this is the best place to have a gathering of our comrades."

Jonathan and Malachi both shot her furious looks. "No one asked you, Myrse," hissed Malachi. "And I think this is the best place for us to meet; no one will suspect it."

"And what if we're caught?" demanded Robert. "What if the Inquisitor walks in? The kidnap of Jace and Clary has not gone unnoticed."

"That's your fault," said Jonathan loudly. "If you hadn't been so stupid as to let the word slip-"

"Now Jonathan," said Valentine softly, coming forward. "They are hardly to blame for the gossip, and I'm sure they're going to fix the mistake, even if it wasn't their fault."

"And how are we going to do that?" asked Myrse, and her voice was tired and full of longing. "We have no way of contacting them."

"Lucky for you, I have thought of an ingenious plan, and it will ensure that not only do I get my children back, but you will as well." Valentine glanced at Jonathan and Malachi, who both seemed to feel his gaze and look up. Something passed between them, but then it was gone. "You see, I learned where my children were taken to, and I tracked down the group that took them."

"Group?" said Robert, surprised.

"Yes, some gathering called the Edison Group. Regardless, I located their compound and found that I had missed my children by a few days, and that it was the Lightwood children and their helpful friend, Magnus the Warlock, who helped them escape."

"Isabelle and Alec broke into the Edison Group?" Myrse and Robert were now up, looking panicked. "Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Myrse. "You knew we wanted our children back, you knew we would do anything to get them, and this is how you decide to let us know? Weeks after you missed them?"

"Myrse!" snarled Malachi, stepping up, but Myrse hit his hand away.

"Those are our _children_. I know you put little stock by your own children, but I love mine." Myrse was shaking furiously.

Valentine's smile was patronizing. "Oh, I'm sure you _love _your children, it would stand to reason. After sacrificing your stepson for them, I think I know the depth of your love." All around, the snickers beat again Robert and Myrse, and Valentine's glowing smile and cold eyes were worst of all. "But, I have a way for you to win back your children's love, and, in the same stroke, bring mine back to me."

At the mention of the word children, Jonathan frowned more. He hated the reminder that Valentine thought of Jace as his child.

"And how is that?" asked Robert, holding his wife back.

"We need to lure your children out, and that way, draw out my children as well. All we need is something or someone who is important enough to them that they will risk everything for them."

Myrse narrowed her eyes. "Whose lives will you be threatening to kill this time?"

Valentine's gaze narrowed, and he drew level with Myrse. "I think it should be obvious that I'm going to use you and Robert."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Jonathan and Malachi pounced on them. The scuffle was short and violent, but there was no doubt as to who would win. Jonathan was faster and stronger than any other shadowhunter, and Malachi was cunning. The other members of the meeting closed a tight circle around the fighting pair, and didn't break apart until Myrse and Robert were both on the ground with their hands pinned behind them.

Valentine gazed at them dispassionately before kneeling down before them. "This is the only reasonable thing to do. No matter how much your children may hate you now, you are their parents and they will always love you. Isabelle and Alec will come, and I suppose Jace will follow, you did raise him after all, and Clary will follow Jace. And then, we all get what we want. You have your children, and I have mine, and then we being our final launch on Idris." Valentine rose to address the crowd. "I am right, yes?"

There was unanimous yes that resounded through the library. Jonathan was smiling, laughing even, in anticipation. He was going to make those children pay, all of them; the Lightwoods, for leading him on that hunt; Jace, for being a rival to his father's attention; and even little Clary, and he didn't even know why. Malachi was glowing with pride that he had joined forces with the most powerful and cunning man alive. And the Lightwoods, with their faces in the floor, were pale and drawn. If their children came to get them, they would be taken into the Circle, but that didn't mean they were any safer.

They looked up at Valentine, and were sickened. He was like a disease, a contagious, fatal disease. He had caught them once, and they had paid the price with their freedom. Now, they were with him again, and had lost their children. Valentine poisoned everything, and they knew it. He had poisoned their dreams once, and now, he had poisoned their future.


	3. Helpless

Helpless

"How are you feeling?"

Jace shot Clary a very sarcastic look, but when he saw her wide eyes and small, pathetic smile, his look softened and he sighed. "I throw up anything I eat-"

"Well, Isabelle was in the kitchen this morning," Clary cut in quickly. "So that might not be sickness."

"Are you trying to poison me?" Jace rasped, but he felt a smile pull at his lips. "I'm feeling better, Clary, but not healthy. Not yet."

"Not for want of trying," Chloe sniggered from her window seat. "Clary told me how you tried to get up for-what was it?-oh, a book. Maybe you've developed a mental disorder."

"I'm sure living with your lot is doing it," Jace drawled, reaching out for Clary's hand. "My life used to be normal until I started running around with you."

"You can hardly blame me," Clary pointed out, but she didn't feel up to a playful argument with him. As much as she liked having the sarcastic, witty Jace around, she wasn't feeling very well, and it was hard for her to laugh when she was feeling so miserable. "You dragged me right along too."

Jace laughed, but his eyes searched her face for meaning, and he frowned when he saw how pale she was. Her eyes seemed to protrude from her face, and her cheek bones were much more pronounced. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a while. "I hope you don't mind, you know, with the dragging."

Clary was about to say she did, but she knew Jace better than that. He might have said it jokingly, but there was depth to his words. Clary smiled back. "Best thing that ever happened to me."

Chloe glanced between the two of them and decided she didn't want to stay. Derek had asked her to keep an eye on Jace because Clary was unreliable, but she didn't feel comfortable when the two of them were so close to each other and so distant from her. They wanted privacy and Chloe didn't care what Derek said.

"Listen, I'm gonna go scavenge some dinner. Do you two want anything?"

Jace shrugged. "I'm getting my special diet from Magnus aren't I?"

"Could you bring me some bread later?" Clary asked, never taking her eyes off Jace. "Just a little. I'm not that hungry."

"You should eat more," Jace said with a frown.

"I'm not hungry," Clary relied absently. She made little circles in Jace's palm with her fingers and hummed to herself. "I'm just tired."

Chloe got up and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen to steal food, leaving Jace to watch Clary intently. She seemed to be there with him, but every now and then her eyes would dilate with pain and she would drift away from him. Jace didn't know how he had looked right before his body starting seizing, but he figured it was something like this.

"Clary, if you're tired, you can sleep. I don't need a body guard or anything." Jace wiggled over in the bed to make room. "Just take a nap, and if I start having a fit you'll know."

"But," Clary began weakly. "I told Magnus I'd watch you."

Jace raised one eyebrow. "If Magnus really believed you were watching me Chloe wouldn't have been in the room. Come on, just a nap, nothing it going to happen. Anyway, I miss having you sleeping next to me; if there was anything good about the Edison Group, it was that."

Clary wanted to say no, but every bit of her body was begging for sleep, and where better to sleep then in Jace's arms? With a long suffering sigh, Clary clambered into the bed and twisted the blankets around her. Jace hadn't lied, he still wasn't better, and his body was giving off an extreme amount of heat, but Clary barely noticed. Surprisingly, it felt good, like she was curled up next to a warm fire. She shivered and pressed herself closer to Jace.

Jace was lying beside Clary, watching the rise and fall of her chest and the motion of her eyes beneath her lids, when he realized how hot she was. Carefully, not to alarm her, Jace placed his hand on her back, her neck, and her forehead. She was hot all over and didn't respond to his touch. Sitting up, Jace checked Clary's pulse and realized how fast her heart was beating. Clary was sick.

"Oh, hell," Jace muttered, and went through the horrible process of trying to get out of bed. He was still uncertain on his feet and fell this way and that way, and had to lean against the wall to balance, but he managed to get to the door. He drew a ragged breath and yelled. "Magnus! Derek!"

He heard movement, but then Clary groaned and decided time was of the essence. Stumbling like a drunk, Jace managed to reach the bathroom where he ran the cold water and drenched a hand towel in it. When he glanced up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and scowled. He wasn't looking very well with his hair hanging limply across his face and his skin losing its golden color. He looked sick, but he'd never admit that to anyone.

Jace tumbled out of the bathroom as Derek topped the stairs. He looked to Jace, to the washcloth, to the open bedroom door, and then back to Jace. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Where's Clary?"

Jace waved the washcloth around. "She's passed out in bed."

Derek rolled his eyes and started to massage his temples. "Fantastic, just fantastic." He turned called over his shoulder, "Hey, Magnus, Clary is coming down too. Jace said she passed out."

There was the scuffle of feet and the sound of a person who was thoroughly annoyed, and then the stairs began creaking under Magnus's weight. "Well, at least both the shadowhunters will be up and at em' when Valentine comes to make a call. Jace, what are you doing with that towel?"

Jace, who was leaning against a wall and breathing rather heavily, looked at the washcloth like he just remembered he had it. "Cold water; Clary's got a fever. I thought it might help."

"You thought a wet towel might help break a fever when you have a _warlock_ in the house?" Magnus raised on eyebrow at Jace. "Go back to your bed."

"That's where I'm trying to get to," he growled, and then threw the cloth on the floor. "As you can clearly see, I am a little detained at the moment."

Jace, leaning against the wall, looked up angrily, but Magnus just shrugged carelessly. "Keep trying. I'll go check on Clary."

"Magnus-" Jace began, but Magnus drifted right past him and entered the room where Clary sleeping.

Derek took another long look at Jace, and for a minute, he considered just leaving him there and walking away. But then he thought of all the times Jace had been there to help him, and all the times he found himself treating Jace like a brother. Jace was as much a member of Derek's family as Simon was, and he wasn't going to leave him stranded. Derek shook his head helplessly and then swung Jace's arm around his shoulders.

When they staggered into the room, Jace was leaning mostly on Derek, but he perked up when he saw Magnus towering over Clary. "What are you doing to her?" Jace demanded.

"I'm trying to see if I can help her," Magnus shot back with a barb in his voice. "I can't just stand by the door and diagnose her, you know. Just calm down and get in bed."

"Okay, mother Magnus," Jace smiled, and Derek, shaking with either repressed laughter or repressed annoyance, helped move Jace to the bed. He sat on it, but did get under the covers. He settled by Clary and watched Magnus closely as he inspected Clary.

"She seems to be suffering the same side-effects as you, Jace. Her body is just adjusting to not having the drugs in it anymore." Magnus shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."

"She's got a fever," Jace said blankly.

"Well, so did you," pointed out Magnus.

"I wasn't this bad!" Jace was shaking a little, nothing too serious, but Magnus eyed him suspiciously. "Can't you make a potion for her or something?"

"A potion for someone whose de-toxing?" Magnus looked slightly offended. "That's like asking me to speed up time. She just needs to suffer through it."

"No," Jace said simply. "I'm not going to see sit here and watch her go through this. Make her better."

"I think it's good for you."

Jace looked up abruptly and saw Chloe standing in the door. She was giving him a hard look and her lips were tight. "You think so?" Jace hissed.

"Yes, I do. I'm tired of watching Clary break down every time you decide to do something stupid. It kills her Jace, to be so helpless, especially when it's you who is causing it. It's not fair that you can be the hero, and do dangerous things and expect to just come home to her waiting. She's scared, and I think it's your turn to know what that feels like."

"You think I want to feel like this?" Jace demanded angrily.

"Do you think she wants to?" Chloe shot back. "I don't think you deserve it, but I think you _need _it. You need to understand helplessness so that way you won't go around making Clary feel that way. It's selfish, really."

"You think I like doing this?" Jace said blankly. "I have to protect her, and the only way I can do that is to go out and do dangerous things. I need to protect her and I know it hurts her, but I'm going to do it."

"It's not fair!" Chloe bellowed back.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that life isn't fair?" Jace tried to stand up, but Derek grabbed him and forcibly sat him back down.

"You're in no condition to be fighting, Jace. Get back in bed and stay with Clary until she wakes up." Derek looked back at Chloe. "Don't fight with him Chloe, not when he's still sick. It doesn't help."

"I'm tired of him treating Clary like he does," she said simply. "He acts like he's untouchable and Clary is the one who pays the price for his actions. He needs to understand what it's doing to her."

"I'm not an idiot," Jace growled.

"Could have fooled me," shot back Chloe. "The way you act-"

"That's it!" bellowed Magnus. "Derek, take Chloe out of here. Jace, shut your mouth before I do it for you. You get ten seconds." Magnus's fingers sparked and Derek moved almost as fast as Jace. He grabbed Chloe and tugged her out the door while she glared back at Jace.

"You didn't need to do that, Magnus," Jace murmured.

"Yes, I did, Jace. Aggravating you isn't going to help you get better, and if Clary wakes up with you two fighting she's going to panic." Magnus looked down at Jace quickly. "Chloe is right Jace. You really are treating Clary badly. She's going to make herself sick just worrying about you."

Jace opened his mouth to say that Magnus should stay out of his business and just focus on his stupid sparkly hair, but he felt Clary shift beside him and he glanced down. Her small body was now snuggled up under the blankets against him, and she was shivering like she was sleeping in a bed of snow. Jace reached out and brushed the hair off her face. She looked so small and helpless to him.

"I know, Magnus, but that doesn't change anything," he sighed. "I have to stop Valentine. If I don't try, who else can?"

"You don't need to do it alone," Magnus pointed out. "You have family and friends who are willing to help you. And, Jace, you're going to need their help, but if you push them away, you're going to fail."

"I won't put Clary in danger," he replied with an even face. "I'll do anything to protect her."

"Be careful, Jace," warned Magnus with a sideways look at Clary. "Men have done terribly things in the name of love. You don't want to make a mistake that can never be forgiven."

Magnus rose then and made to leave and Jace was going to let him go, but something in him stirred. "Have you seen it happen before?"

"Seen love destroy?" Magnus asked curiously. "Yes."

Jace narrowed his eyes and nodded. The words were too close to what his father used to say to him. It made his stomach turn and his lungs clench down on air. He loved Clary more than anything else, he had been willing to do anything for her. Once, he thought it had been a gift, but in retrospect, it seemed almost like a curse. He had been taken captive and Clary had come after him, almost getting herself killed. He had tried to attack a number of people who had tried to hurt Clary…

_To love is to destroy…_

Jace flinched away from the memory and leaned back until he was lying beside Clary. He ran his hands through her hair and hummed a random tune, thinking of anything but the look on those nurses faces as he snarled at them. He had believed Clary when she said she loved him and when she would do anything for him, and for a while, the nightmares that Valentine had inflicted on him as a child had gone. Clary's love had healed that, but it awakened something in him less than pure.

_Am I allowed to love? _he wondered. _If I have no one to love me, I am miserable, but if I love, I am a monster. _

Jace continued to run his hands over Clary's hair, and she murmured something against his palm. He smiled when he recognized his name on her lips, and then gathered Clary up in his arms and kissed her. She stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes enough to see his face. Jace thought that Clary's usually sharp, green eyes were rather hazy and lost. She blinked slowly and looked up at him.

"Sometimes, I dream that you leave me, Jace," she said in confused voice. "I see you walk away over and over again, and I'm left here, watching you go. You're not going to leave now, are you?"

Jace kissed Clary's forehead. "No, Clary, I won't leave you. I'll always be here for you."

Clary's head lolled back. "Will you? You come and go, and I always have to wait for you to come back. I hate to wait, it's the worst part, but I'll wait."

Jace frowned. "You're not making any sense, Clary."

"I'm not?" Clary wondered, and then she smiled weakly. "I feel so light, Jace, like I'm floating. But, with one word, I'm falling. I don't want to fall, Jace."

Jace tucked Clary's head against his chest and kissed her hair. "I won't let you fall. I'll be there to stop you."

Clary looked up wonderingly, her eyes glazed over from fever. "Always?"

"Always," Jace vowed softly.

* * *

><p>When the sun rose the next day, Isabelle moved lithely through the house, her steps silent and her breathing shallow. She crept down the hall and listened carefully to the breathing of every person in the room before moving past them. She finally stopped outside Jace and Clary's room and pushed the door open to peek in. They were pressed against each other on the bed, breathing deeply in sleep. She had never seen Jace at peace like then, and she was surprised by the look on his face. He seemed satisfied.<p>

She left them, not wanting to break up the perfect moment, and she passed down the stairs. Isabelle thought she was the first to rise, but was surprised to find Alec sitting in the kitchen, chewing listlessly on a piece of toast. When she joined him, she saw that his face was pale white and his eyes were dull and flat. He looked sick with something.

"Are you alright, Alec?" Isabelle asked quietly, picking up an apple and taking a loud bite. "You like you just saw Magnus in his Halloween costume."

Alec looked up, staring blankly. "His Halloween costume?"

"Yeah, didn't you see that thing?" Isabelle asked, trying to smile at Alec's lost look. "I think he was a go-go dancer last year."

To Isabelle's horror, Alec didn't seem in the least bit fazed by this revelation, and usually Alec was very embarrassed by his boyfriend's outrageous costumes. Instead, he just stared long and hard at his sister before looking down and taking another bite out of his toast.

"God, what's wrong with you?" Isabelle demanded. "Is this about Jace and Clary? You know Magnus was just trying to do what's best for them."

"This isn't about Jace and Clary," Alec said carefully.

"So it's about Jace?" Isabelle was losing any patience she had for her brother. "You know, if you still think you're in love with Jace, you've got another thing coming. I've seen the way you look at him, and it's nothing compared to you and Magnus. You're making a huge mistake-"

"Isabelle!" Alec hissed, his eyes finally coming into focus, and they were furious. "This _isn't_ about Jace. This had nothing to do with him."

"What is it then?" Isabelle asked, her voice level but her eyes as hard as her brother's.

Alec unfurled his curled up hand and produced a letter. It was just a piece of torn paper, the edges burnt, and the handwriting loopy and red. "I found this letter this morning stuck to the front the door. It was addressed to Magnus the High Warlock and Alec Lightwood."

Isabelle reached out for it. "Who sent it? How did they know to send it here?"

Alec shook his head helplessly. "If you're just sending a letter, it can go to Magnus. You don't need to know where he is. It's like firewiritng. But it was sent to me. It says in the letter."

Isabelle flicked her eyes over the handwriting, not reading it. "Who sent it? I don't recognize the hand."

Alec swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. "Valentine."

The words in Isabelle's throat died and she gasped. "Val-Valentine? He sent this? What does he want now?"

"It's our parents," Alec said softly. "He's going to kill them."

Isabelle's lips parted a little, and then she dove into the short letter. Her eyes jumped back and forth across the paper frantically. When she'd read it through three times, her eyes rose up to meet her brother's. "He's going to kill mom and dad unless we agree to meet him? What does he want with us?"

Alec nodded helplessly. "I don't know, it's not like he knows that we have Jace and Clary-"

"And even if he did know, what good does it do to have _us _go to him? Shouldn't he be asking us to send Jace along?" Isabelle shook the paper. "Have you spoken to Magnus about this?"

"It just came." Alec was watching the letter as if he thought it might explode. "I'll go get him. He'll know what to do."

Alec rose and left the kitchen quickly, and Isabelle returned to the letter. She glared at it, trying to push down the fear and tears that were working in her throat. She hated her parents for what they did to Jace, for the lies they had said, and for their betrayal to Valentine. But they were her parents. They loved her, and no matter what horrible things happened, they would always go to _her_ defense.

Isabelle felt like her heart was breaking bit by bit, and she didn't know how to put it back together.


	4. Family Duty

Family Duty

Simon was wandering down through Magnus's house aimlessly in the early morning when he decided he was hungry. It had been a while since Simon had eaten anything, and all he had on his mind when he entered the kitchen was eggs and toast, but started when he happened upon Isabelle. She was leaning against the counter, staring out into trees beyond his house, and her face was blank. Simon thought she looked strangely tragic, her face a mask and her body stiff like stone. But here eyes were alive with pain and confusion and pity. Simon had a strange urge to draw her.

"Isabelle," he said cautiously, creeping a little closer. "Isabelle, are you alright?"

Isabelle stirred from her watch slowly, her eyes blinking gradually and her mouth forming soundless words. "Fine. I'm fine, Simon."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me, Isabelle. You look like Clary."

Isabelle thought of making a joke about being short and shapeless, but her heart wasn't in it and she just shook her head. "I'm just tried, that's all."

"I didn't think you shadowhunters got tired." Simon edged next to her. He gave her an uncertain smile that she just barely returned. "I thought you were like the post service. You know, sun, clouds, rain, snow, all day every day."

"We never quit," Isabelle said decidedly. She gave him a once over and her smile tightened. "It's part of who we are, always moving on, no matter what happens."

"Really?" Simon leaned back against the counter so that the light caught his hair and Isabelle could see how blond it was. "That seems a little…well, impossible. I mean, you have to stop and take a break once in a while. You can't be a warrior all the time, especially when you're only seventeen. You need to be a kid once in a while, Isabelle."

Isabelle seemed to find this insulting to her position as a shadowhunter and she frowned. "Well, that's the difference between you and me, between me and any other Downworlder. I know I have a duty to the people, and I'm not going to take a break. Lives are lost if I take a break, and I can be held responsible for it." She sniffed importantly. "I couldn't live with myself, personally."

Simon chuckled. "See, I find that hard to believe. You're still a kid, and the world doesn't belong on your shoulders. You'd be crushed under the weight, first of all."

"What do you mean?" Isabelle scowled, but she felt a longing somewhere in her heart for the life Simon was speaking of. "We all shoulder the weight. What do you think you're doing by helping us to fight?"

Simon shrugged. "I know I'm taking some of the weight, but I'm not grabbing as much as I possibly can. And no one ever made me, so I guess that's the difference between me and you. It's okay if I make a mistake, it's okay if I'm a coward or lazy. No one is going to hold me responsible to the insane degree they do you."

"Maybe I like the responsibly." Isabelle straightened her spine and made to move away, but Simon caught her arm.

"You might, but I don't think you do." He looked into her eyes and smiled the saddest smile she'd ever seen. "It's written all over your face, Isabelle, that you hate it. You're sad all the time, tired all the time, and you're always afraid for your life. It wears you down, even I can see it. And do you know what will happen if you keep it up?" Simon waited for Isabelle to answer, but she just stared at him in wonder. "You'll destroy yourself. Sometimes, I think Jace is going that way; he's just so serious about his life and everything in it. He keeps taking on more and more people's problems, and he shouldn't."

Isabelle wanted to ask after Jace, after all, he was her brother, but for some reason, she wanted Simon to talk about _her_ problems. Maybe it was that she never told people her problems so they never asked after them, but she wanted Simon to talk about them. Make them go away.

"It's our job, Simon, that's all."

Simon took Isabelle by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "It's a job, not a life. You need to learn to live, Isabelle. You need to go out into the world and have fun, real fun, with people you love."

The mention of people that she loved broke whatever dreams Isabelle had been entertaining, and she felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water down her back. She felt cold all over again. "I _know_ how to have fun, Simon; I have plenty of it." She smiled suddenly, acrazy smile that was almost scary for Simon. "Want me to show you the type of fun we shadowhunters have?"

Simon's expression turned guarded fast, and he drew back a little. "Your kind is so violent, Isabelle. I don't think you know what fun is."

Isabelle laughed and tossed her hair back. She wanted to forget her parents and her problems and the world around her. She wanted to speed along through life, not pausing to think or feel, just keep moving from one spot to another until the end. Just sever all the connections to anybody and be free.

And she did that in the only way she really knew how. Isabelle gave Simon's arm a sharp tug and she flung herself into his arms. Simon, caught by surprise, didn't even try to stop Isabelle when she pressed her lips against his and they fetched up together against the counter. Isabelle sensed his hesitation, but she pushed it back, and after a minute, Simon gave in. They remained in each other's arms for a few minutes, completely unaware of the world around them before Simon finally came back to his senses.

"Isabelle," he rasped, pulling away from her. "Isabelle, what are you doing?"

Isabelle gave him a skeptical look. "What do you think I'm doing, Simon? I'm having fun, _real _fun. This is how we have fun, because, when you think about it, today might be my last day alive, so I might as well live it up to the fullest. There are some experiences I want to have before I die, and chances are pretty good that I'll die young."

"Experiences? Kissing me is an experience?" Simon took both Isabelle's arms in his hands and held her a safe distance away from him. "I don't think you understand what you're doing, Isabelle. You think that by doing anything you want, by being reckless, you're living your life to the fullest. But you're not."

Isabelle's smile remained, but it became hard. "Don't tell me how to live my life to the fullest. What would you know about it, anyway? You've spent your life with friends and family being safe; not me."

Simon frowned, trying to find a way to explain to Isabelle the difference between being lively and being reckless. "You talk about experiencing life to the fullest before you die, well, what about love?"

"What do you mean?" Isabelle detached herself from Simon, feeling that uncomfortable feeling that she attached to her parents surge up. "I know what love is."

Simon laughed carelessly. "Could have fooled me. I know for a fact that you don't love me, that you don't love any of the guys you mess around with. You're too scared to try and love because you think that everything you love will just die anyway, so why bother."

"I love my family," said Isabelle and her face hardened and she looked ready to hit Simon. "And that's something, isn't it? Something more than you have!"

"You're too afraid to love," Simon said, shaking his head. "You don't know what love is because you've watched too many people die. You think passion and making out is love, but it's not. Not even close."

"Get away from me, Simon," breathed Isabelle. "Just get away from me."

Simon sighed. "Okay, Isabelle, I'll go, but that's not going to make your problems go away."

As Simon turned to leave, Alec came hurtling back in, Magnus in tow. Alec saw the distraught look on his sister's face and Simon's retreating look, and figured that Isabelle had told Simon what happened. Alec figured that Isabelle liked Simon, not because he was some dangerous kid, but because he was sensible and thoughtful, and that's what she needed in their situation. Isabelle, Alec thought, had been running around with too many worthless boys. He liked Simon even more now.

"Magnus thinks he knows why Valentine sent us the letter instead of Jace and Clary," Alec began quickly, ignoring the look of horror on Isabelle's face. "He probably thinks we'll forbid them from coming when we go to get out our parents and he'll follow us anyway. That way, while we are distracted by our parents, Valentine can get Jace and Clary."

"Alec!"

"What?"

"Valentine sent a letter-"

"Oh, for the love of God-"

The voices were drowned out by Isabelle's screeching protests, Alec's fumbling shock, and Simon's demands for knowledge. It took Magnus maybe ten seconds to understand the mistake, and he sighed very loudly. This always seemed to happen with mortals, and especially with young mortals. Magnus clapped his hands together, and the three fell silent under his spell.

"Apparently, there has been some misunderstanding," Magnus said with a frown. "I take it, Isabelle, that you _did not_ inform Simon of the situation with your parents?" Isabelle nodded no furiously and Alec blanched. "Yes, that might cause some sort of problem. And Simon, what exactly are you planning to do with such knowledge?"

Simon waited patiently for Magnus to release him from the spell, knowing that respect for Magnus was going to earn him more favor than whining. When he was free to speak, he said, "I'm not going to do anything with it. I'm not some spy who's going to run off to my family. You should have just told us all what's happening; we might have been able to help."

With their voices free, Isabelle scowled. "What do you think you can do? You heard Alec. Valentine has our parents and he's going to kill them unless we go, but he's obviously hoping that when we go, Jace and Clary will follow. It's a just a big plan for Valentine to get his hands on his children."

"Maybe Derek has an idea." Simon shrugged. "I mean, he's pretty smart, and we did say that we'd help you all fight Valentine."

"Derek should just stay out of this," grunted Alec, who hadn't quite forgiven the werewolf for his rough treatment of Jace. "This is our problem and we're going to solve it. Magnus has an idea, and I think we should go along with it."

"Oh, yeah it's a great idea," said Simon sarcastically. "Why not just bring Jace and Clary along for the fun, that'll surprise Valentine."

"What else can we do?" Isabelle said simply. "We can't leave our parents with Valentine, and we all know that Jace will follow us if we try and leave him behind. It'll just end badly."

"Yes, but walking into Valentine's waiting arms is not going to make it end better!" Simon cried, exasperated. "Either way you look at it, you're going to meet Valentine, and he's going to be prepared, and you're not going to know what he's got up his sleeve. He'll be _expecting _you and Jace and Clary to come. You need to surprise him."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Magnus asked, not unkindly.

Simon paused for a moment thoughtfully. "What if…well, what if when you go, me and Derek and Chloe and Tori go? Valentine won't be expecting four additional fighters, especially four fighters who have strange, uncontrollable powers? That'll have to give the upper hand to us. I mean, think of Chloe; she destroyed that demon with her bare hands, so think what she'll be able to Valentine's demons. And Derek is super strong, much stronger than any werewolf Valentine's ever come across. Plus, you've got me and Tori, which I think might throw him through a loop."

"No," Alec said at once, shaking his head. "You lot don't know how to control yourself. You'd be more of a hindrance than a help. You could hurt one of us instead of Valentine."

"You know, that argument sounds vaguely familiar," Simon said coldly. "I swear I could have heard that somewhere…Oh wait, I did. Isn't that exactly what we said when you tried to convince us to fight _for _you?"

"That's different," Alec ground out. "You need to learn to control yourselves first-"

"It's not different at all!" Simon shot back with a scowl. "You can't pick and choose when you get to use us. Either we come with you for this and help you fight, or we can just walk out and never see you again."

"You not in a position to make that kind of the threat," Alec huffed, trying to look impressive and imposing to Simon.

"He may not be," said a voice from the door. "But we can all hear what you have to say and decide if Simon is right." Derek, who had heard the commotion from upstairs, had slunk down and was eyeing Alec with more dislike than usual. "We're willing to help, and I would have thought given the delicate situation you're already in that you would welcome the help."

"This situation is more than delicate," Isabelle said sharply. "We're talking about our parents lives."

Derek chuckled humorlessly. "How are your parents' lives more important than the war against Valentine? They're just liabilities to this, and you should be focusing on the entire picture, not just your parents."

Before Isabelle or Alec could respond, Simon murmured, "It's what your parents would want you to do. It's what adult shadowhunters would do. The good of the people is more important than your parents' lives."

Isabelle's face dropped hopelessly. "But they're _our parents_."

"I know," Simon said quickly, cutting across Derek's annoyed reply. "And it's horrible that you have to be in this situation, but you are, and you can't change it. Think about what shadowhunters are supposed to do, how they are supposed to behave. This is what a shadowhunter does, protect the weak from the demons in the world."

"Then maybe the shadowhunters are wrong!" Isabelle said passionately before gasping at her own words.

Simon just nodded. "Maybe they are, but it doesn't change what's happening now."

Isabelle couldn't speak, so she just turned to her brother who was looking grim. Alec wanted more than anything to say no to Simon and Derek and figure it out without their help, but when he saw the look on his sister's face he knew there was no way out. Very slowly, he turned to look at Simon and Derek.

"Okay, you think you have a better idea, what is it?"

"Not a better idea, just involve us," Simon said simply. "Valentine won't even know what to make of us. It'll give you plenty of time to find your parents and get them out of there while we distract him." Simon shot a pleading look over at Derek. "You can have Chloe throw some demons around and I'll make that fog thing and we'll be perfect."

"Chloe isn't going to _throw_ demons around," Derek began, but Magnus was smiling rather fondly at Simon.

"That's not half a bad idea, Simon," Magnus chuckled. "Certainly better than us just going in there blindly. At least this way, we have some sort of counter attack. Just be sure that all of you are up to it. We can't have you coming down with the same thing Jace and Clary have."

"We haven't started yet." Simon smiled. "Derek already went through it once, so I bet his body is used to it. Me and Tori and Chloe are feeling fine now, so the sooner we go, the better."

Alec exchanged a look with Magnus and shrugged. "Alright, go get everyone and tell them the plan. We're going to leave tomorrow to meet Valentine and get there a little early to scope the place out. If everything goes right, we could be back here for dinner by six tomorrow."

"Who's going to stay with Clary?" Isabelle asked.

"Rae can," Simon answered. "She's not really the fighting type, and right now, I don't think she's in the mood to lend a hand. But she's really nice!" Simon added quickly when he saw the look on Isabelle's face. "She wouldn't hurt Clary or anything. We can trust her, she owes us."

"It doesn't sound like much," Alec hedged.

"But it sounds like something," Magnus pronounced. "And something is all I need, now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I also need breakfast, so get out if you're not going to help me cook."

Alec offered to stay behind, but Derek wanted to see Chloe and explain the plan to everyone. Simon turned and left slowly, giving Isabelle time to catch up if she wanted. As he opened the door to go out into the yard, Isabelle grabbed his arm. He rotated slowly to face her, and saw that there was still so much pain and confusion in her eyes. She looked half angry half grateful, and he felt a very powerful urge to draw her into his arms and tell her she didn't need to feel so helpless.

"You didn't have to do all those things, Simon. I wasn't going to ask you for help," she said.

Simon pushed the door open and stepped into the light. "I didn't have to do it, but I did, because it was the right thing to do, and certainly the smartest."

Isabelle lingered in the doorframe, as if deciding whether to follow him or not, and then caught up with him. "It won't be smartest if you all get killed."

Simon shot her a crooked smile that made her heart thump just a little bit faster. "Always the optimist, aren't you? Well, I think if it comes to it, Valentine won't kill us at first. He'd be too interested in our powers just to cut our throats right there. I think he might keep us around for a short while. You know, for kicks."

"And if that does happen, and he does hold you captive, how is that any better than dying?"

"Well," Simon mused, brushing his hands against Isabelle's. "If it does happen, I trust Clary and Rae to do the right thing and come rescue us."

"Why would they do that?" Isabelle asked, twitching her fingers in some hope that Simon might notice. "If I were them I would run and hide, not go to meet my death."

"Maybe that's what makes shadowhunters and supernaturals different." Simon said slyly. "You listen to reason and do what makes sense. Obviously going to Valentine and trying to rescue us is a death wish, but they would come, and you know why?" Simon stopped and faced Isabelle squarely. "Because we're family. You do crazy things for family, things that might get you killed. You do it without reason, you do it selfishly, you do it with no hope. But you do it, because it's your family."


	5. Refusal

Refusal

Chloe was alone in the room she shared with Derek, trying to think her way through the mess of her memories. It felt like a great jumble, a muddle in her head and she couldn't take control of it. She could still remember her dad, but any thought of her dad led her to her aunt, who she was almost sure was dead now. And that train of thought took her back to the Edison Group, where she certainly didn't want to stray. But even those memories came back, just a collage of white-faced doctors and angry needles and fear and pain.

_Just breathe, Chloe,_ she told herself firmly. _Make it a movie, a good movie, this could be your masterpiece, your finest work of art. _

But Chloe knew she could never tell the world the truth. There was never going to be a movie about her life, about the horrors and wonders that she now lived through. She almost regretted it because it would have been a masterpiece, something unique and new, and it would have made her famous…but it was a lost cause.

Chloe pulled the covers on the bed around her tighter and closed her eyes. She just had to focus on other things, things that were more pressing. She knew she would have time one day to figure it out, but it was too confusing for her to even think about right now. She just needed a distraction…

"Chloe?" Her eyes flew open, and standing in the door was Derek, looking at her uncertainly. When he caught her eyes, he smiled almost shyly and moved into the room. "I came to see if you were awake yet, maybe see if you wanted breakfast or something."

Chloe breathed in and caught the scent of Derek, which was comforting in a way she didn't really understand. She was put in the mind of forests and moonlit nights, and it seemed all very romantic. "What were you doing up so early?"

"There's been a few developments, and I thought I might as well do something useful." Derek perched on the bed and toyed with the blankets. "Valentine took Isabelle and Alec's parents, and he's going to kill them unless they come to meet him. We think he was planning a distraction to catch Jace and Clary."

This was exactly what Chloe needed in a distraction. She sat up straighter. "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"We were thinking about it," Derek hedged, that protective instinct surging up. He brushed the hair off Chloe's face and smiled at her. "We're going to tag along, give him a surprise. Valentine won't be expecting people like us, he won't even know what to do when he sees you. That way, while we distract him, Alec and Isabelle can get their parents and we can run for it."

Chloe pursed her lips. "I wish I would have been a part of this conversation."

"You don't like the idea?" Derek asked at once, his eyes darkening.

"No, I do like it, I'm just so…miserable with nothing to do, Derek." Chloe looked down and sighed. "I feel like I'm not moving anywhere, and then all I can think about is the past, and it seems like everything now is so desperate. Maybe I'm depressed."

Derek stared at Chloe a moment and then chuckled. He took her face in his hands and drew her in for a small kiss. "Chloe, there's nothing wrong with being depressed when you're in a situation like this. I mean, _a lot_ has happened in the past few months, and it would stand to reason that you might be a little confused or scared. You just need something to keep your mind on. Simon has his art, I'm working on strategies to fight Valentine, I think Jace and Clary just make out a lot-"

"And does that work?" Chloe cut in, moving a bit closer to Derek. "You know, the making out thing?"

Derek swallowed rather louder than he intended. "Well, most people think it's a stress reliever…helps you direct your aggression…"

Chloe had moved to sit right in front of Derek and was smiling up cheekily at him. "Well, I could use some stress relief if you're willing to help."

Derek's face showed his initial shock and his uncertainty at Chloe's suggestion, and then slowly transformed into a look of anticipation. He drew Chloe into his arms and then onto his lap. For a fleeting moment, he has a glimpse of him and Chloe at the Edison Group when they were locked in the little room together. Chloe leaned forward until she was inches from Derek's face, and then she pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't a long kiss, nothing romantic and beautiful, but it was enough to make Chloe feel light headed. She felt a powerful warmth work its way out of her chest and down to the tips of her fingers and toes. She squirmed in his arms, but stayed there, smiling long after the kiss.

"Still feeling stressed?" Derek asked, his voice rough and his hands gripping hard to Chloe's arms.

"Not quite," panted Chloe, blushing furiously and running her hands over his arms. "But it certainly helped."

"Well, I'm more than willing to keep offering you my help, as it may be." Derek smiled and resituated Chloe on his lap. He leaned in to kiss her again when the door to the room slammed open and Jace came striding in, still looking a little wane.

"I wouldn't have expected any better," sneered Jace, but his heart wasn't in it. "Alec just came in to my room going on about some plan to get his parents back. Care to clarify?"

Derek, to Chloe's surprise and embarrassment, didn't move away from her, didn't even replace her on the bed. He leaned back a little and flicked his eyes over Jace's still fragile form. "Yes, it seems Valentine is going to kill their parents unless they meet him. He expected you and Clary to tag along, and in the resulting panic, he was going to take you and Clary. But, we found a solution."

"Really?" Jace was eyeing Derek with a certain amount if dislike. "And how are we going to manage that?"

"We're going to go with them, that should be a big enough surprise for Valentine. It'll throw him off his plan long enough for Alec and Isabelle to get their parents, and we won't have to risk you or Clary."

"You really think that will be enough to fool Valentine?" Jace asked skeptically. "He's no fool, and even if you manage to surprise him, he'll find a way to work around you. Valentine is no fool."

"He doesn't need to be a fool," Derek shrugged. "He just needs to be surprised."

"And who will be watching Clary?" Jace asked at once. "I'm not staying behind while my family runs off to save their parents."

Chloe scowled. "This is what I mean. You think it's your job to run off and save everyone's lives, and you can just leave Clary behind. You're being selfish."

Jace shot her a furious look. "How can you expect me to let Alec and Isabelle so alone to face Valentine? Who else here knows what he's capable of? Who else has a right to face him? After what he did to my life I think I have earned the right to meet him in battle."

"And what if you get hurt?" Chloe asked shrewdly.

"Then you can bring me back and tell me the whole way here how right you are," Jace replied. "You can't stop me from going to meet Valentine, and from helping my family."

"I can't, but I sure wish I could," ground out Chloe.

Derek gave her a gentle squeeze and turned to face Jace, who was leaning against the doorframe and frowning. "Jace, you should consider staying here. We're leaving Clary here with Rae and Max, and it might be better for you to stay with her. I'm sure she won't enjoy waking up and finding you gone."

"Clary knows my duty to fight in their war," Jace announced, keeping his face impassive. "We should be there and back again in short time, not so long that Clary will feel left behind."

"Jace," Chloe said warningly, "she loves you and you're just leaving her behind. This isn't fair and she's not going to let this go one much longer-"

"Chloe, I _know _this," Jace practically snarled. "You think I don't realize how it hurts her? Well, I do, and I'm not going to have this argument with you again. When you leave to fight Valentine, I'm going with you."

Derek snatched Chloe and pressed her against him before she could say anything too cruel. "I figured you might want to go with us, and I'm not going to stop you. The truth it, we'll need your help. But, you need to realize that Chloe is right, and you should tell Clary that you're going to leave."

"Why?" Jace asked quickly. "Why does Clary need to know I'm going if I'll be back before she even wakes up? Why should I have to put her through all of that?"

"She deserves to know." Derek made a face at him and Jace flinched away from him.

"I don't want to scare her," Jace murmured. "She'll just panic, and she's already sick."

Derek growled, a wolf sound, and then tucked Chloe into his chest with a very decisive tug. "You do as you like, Jace, but I think not telling her will be so much worse off in the end."

"Am I to assume that you don't agree with my plan?" Jace asked with a look at Chloe. You think I should tell her that I'm leaving?"

"I think you should let her know that you love her, and that, if you must leave, tell her why. Make her understand that you will go, but you'll come back to her in the end. It's only for a little while."

Jace tried to look skeptical, but he couldn't deny that Derek was making some sense. He nodded vaguely and left the room before Chloe could shoot another insult at him. Slowly, taking as much time as he could, Jace returned to his room. Clary was tucked in the bed, shaking now, and fighting with imaginary foes. She twisted around in bed, murmuring something, and then relaxed back with a painful sigh. Jace settled on the bed beside Clary and kissed her softly on the lips. Her eyes fluttered and she opened them just a little.

"Clary," Jace whispered, "Clary, are you awake."

"No, not quite," she mumbled, gazing up at him with misty eyes. "Care to help?"

Jace smiled a little. "Intriguing concept. What would I have to do to wake you up?"

Clary rolled until she was resting her head on his lap. "I think some kissing is in perfect order. Just a little."

Jace leaned over Clary's body and brushed her lips with in gentle kiss. She was covered in cold sweat and the pupils of her eyes were wide. Her lips curled up into a very small smile, but it seemed like her heart wasn't in it. Jace cupped her face in his hands and focused all his attention on the crook of her neck. Clary giggled weakly and reached out to twist her hands in Jace's hair.

"You're being very affectionate," she said, not at all unpleased.

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do," Clary said at once, tugging him down closer. "I'm just surprised. You always treat me like this small, weak thing. What's changed?

"Nothing," Jace said, but Clary gave him a suspicious look. "I guess I just realized how much I loved you. I thought you might have forgotten since the last time."

"Jace," Clary said sternly, "What has gotten in to you? "

Jace gave her a long look, measuring the strength left in her character. He thought of Derek's advice, to tell Clary he was leaving, and tried to look her in the eye. "I have to go away for a little while."

Whatever joy had been on her face slipped away so quickly Jace wasn't sure it had ever been. "Please, Jace, don't go."

"I have to…you-you don't understand," Jace began, trying to hide from the look of terror on Clary's face. "Valentine took Isabelle and Alec's parents, and he's going to kill them unless they go to meet them."

"Yes, if _they _go to meet him," Clary said, her eyes narrowing. "I don't think I heard anywhere in there that you had to tag along. Valentine wants us, Jace, and he'll use this all to his advantage. He'll try and take you."

"Of course he will," Jace sighed. "But, we're going to surprise him. Derek and Chloe and Simon are going to come. Valentine won't be expecting them, so we should have the upper hand. If things go according to plan, we'll have the Lightwoods here by dinner tomorrow. I'll be back, I promise, Clary."

Clary shook her head angrily. "No, I don't want you to go, Jace, please, stay. For me."

Jace had rarely heard Clary beg, and he flinched away from the sound. He had never meant to hurt Clary, and the heartbreak in her eyes was like a raw wound. "I can't do that. I'm the only one who knows how to fight Valentine, and I'm the only one who had the right."

"What about _me_!" Clary forced herself to sit up and she snatched Jace's hand. "What about my rights? He's my father, and he sent me to the Edison Group too, so don't I have the same right as you? Why shouldn't I go as well?"

"You're in no condition for it," Jace said simply. "You can barely stand up, let alone help us fight off Valentine."

Clary felt herself slipping into a small state of panic. She ran her hands frantically through Jace's hair, shaking her head like a mad woman. "You can't go. You'll get hurt; Valentine, he'll hurt you. Stay here with me, please, we'll do whatever you want. Just don't go away."

"I have to go, Clary. No matter what they did, Myrse and Robert raised me, they protected me, so I have to go to help them." Jace tried to pull Clary's hands from his face, but she was grasping on too tightly. "I owe them something, even if they did try to give me to Valentine."

"What if it's all just a plan?" Clary cried. "What if they really are just going along with Valentine so he can get you? Please, Jace, I'm begging you, stay here with me. Don't leave me alone, not again."

"I'll never leave you alone, Clary. I'll come back, I swear I will, but I need to do this." Jace saw the desperation in her eyes but couldn't turn away from it. "I'm sorry I have to go, but I don't think I have another option."

"Yes, you do!" Clary moaned, shaking his head a little. "You can stay here with me. For once, just stop being a warrior and be the man I love. I will do _whatever _you want if you will just stay here."

For just a moment, Jace saw this world as it could have been. He could stay with Clary, together, in this room. They could lay on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms, pushing all the Valentines in the world away. It would be a world he'd never known, and one he would be more than willing to explore. It would be like living a normal life, being just a normal boy.

And that was it, Jace realized. He _wasn't _normal, and he had no right to try and pretend he was. He could wish to be normal all he wanted, but it wouldn't change the fact that he was a shadowhunter and that his life was never going to be normal. If he loved Clary, it would never be a normal love, it would never be simple and sweet. There was always going to be something trying to drive them apart and then something even stronger pulling them back together.

"I love you, Clary," Jace said finally. "I love you more than I love anything in else in the world, more than I love myself, more than my family, more than my duty to be a shadowhunter. But I cannot forget that I have that duty."

"So what does this mean?" Clary demanded, her nail digging into Jace's hair. "What does that mean for me?"

"It means that I'm going to go and fight," Jace replied, and this time, he did manage to jerk Clary's hands off his hair. "But it also means that I'll be fighting for the love I have for you. And I will come back to you. Always."

Jace stood before Clary could reach out. He knew that if he let her pull him back he wouldn't be able to get up again. He loved Clary too much to refuse her anymore, and this was his one chance to get away from her. He crossed to the door, still a little unsteady on his feet and gave her the saddest smile he'd ever worn.

"I'll come back, Clary."

In that moment, Clary was furious. She had thought Jace finally understood that there were more important things that fighting and glory, that there was love and life and happiness, and she thought he cared enough for her to see it. Clary had been so sure she had convinced Jace of this that she hadn't thought of him leaving. She thought that Jace had learned to love her.

So, in that moment of anger and pain, Clary lifted her eyes up to Jace's and narrowed her gaze. Her voice was cold when she spoke, devoid of love or warmth. "Then go, Jace, just go and leave me. And I don't care when you come back, because it won't be to me."


	6. Ambush

Ambush

There was a blanket of dense fog that descended on New York over the night, and when the sun rose, its light was saturated in the mist. Vague shapes of people faded in and out of the clouds, their faces blank and their movements lost. Sound was muted, so all that could be heard throughout the city was the distance thump and cries, like voices lost in a bitter storm. It was almost as if the world had decided to skip a day, and in its place was this static fog.

The fog that circled the Institute was just as thick, but there seemed to be an ominous feel to it. The temperature was much colder, and wicked shapes kept forming and reforming in the clouds. And when Isabelle slipped out of the taxi before the gates to the Institute, she curled her lips back in a snarl. It looked dead, not like it did to Mundane eyes, but truly dead. There was a lifelessness that seeped out of the windows and walls, and it sapped the strength from the limbs and hearths. She turned to look over her shoulder as Alec and Magnus followed her.

"Home is looking pleasant since we left," she said with a tight smile.

Alec scowled, but his blue eyes seemed to darken. "Valentine must be expecting us. He probably has his demons surrounding this whole place."

Isabelle shrugged delicately but didn't reply. She scanned the vague shape of the Institute, the towers and spires, and wondered where in all those rooms her parents were. She didn't even know if she wanted to see them, but she was curious to know how they had lived since they betrayed her and her brothers. Were they happy now? Did they regret their decision? Did they miss her?

"You okay, Isabelle?"

She turned about quickly, expecting Alec but finding Simon. He was looking less than his usual self in a grey shirt and jeans, very pale and drawn, and his eyes didn't glow in their bleated colors. She cast him a look of furious intensity. "Of course I am; I just want to get this over with and go back to Magnus's house."

"You just looked a little…I don't know…anxious." Simon reached out and gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. "You shouldn't be-if you are- because everything is going to go according to plan. Valentine will come out with your parents, you'll make your speech, me and the other super freaks will jump in, and we'll run off with your parents."

Isabelle raised one eyebrow. "Don't let Jace hear you calling _him_ a super freak."

Simon smiled. "Do you think he might be offended?"

"Just a little," Jace said, coming up beside them.

Simon laughed a little out of nervousness, and then caught the look on Jace's face. It was very serious and directed. He looked, Simon thought, like a shadowhunter should; defensive and powerful, ready to fight. He remembered Clary's drawing of him as a lion, and saw where she got it. He looked like a predator.

"Being normal is overrated, anyway," Simon said, and then winked at Isabelle. "So, where is this Valentine? You think he'd be out here with bells on his heels."

"No," Jace said at once, "that's not how Valentine is. He doesn't wait, he'll make you come to him."

Simon felt that there was a story behind this, but he didn't bother asking. He had never been able to understand Jace's past, and he had never asked anyone. All he knew was that there was bad history between Jace and his stepfather, though what that bad history was, Simon figured he might never know. Instead, he nodded, setting his face into something stern. "Well, you would know best. I'm going to go see how Chloe and Tori are holding up."

Isabelle watched while Simon joined Chloe and Tori, and she frowned a little. She enjoyed Simon's company, though he was a little too sweet for her tastes, but that didn't mean she wanted him floating around Tori. Isabelle pursed her lips and stared harder at Tori. She was pretty, for a witch, Isabelle decided. She had short dark hair, cut to fray our all over. Isabelle ran a hand through her thick hair and wondered if she ought to cut hers. It had been waist long for too many years. It made her look like a little girl.

"You can stare at Simon later, Izzy," Jace murmured, and Isabelle could hear the smile in his voice. "We're going to have to focus right now."

Isabelle spun about, and the smirk on Jace's face was too much for her then. "Oh, you're one to talk. You think it's not written all over your face? All you can think about if Clary. You should have just stayed behind, Jace, because you're no use to us if your thoughts are on her."

What little smile Jace had vanished. "I know how to fight, Isabelle, and I know how to direct my thoughts." Jace glared at Isabelle a moment and then walked away to Alec. At least he wouldn't bother him about Clary. "So," he said when he came level to Alec, "what's the plan?"

Alec jumped a little when Jace spoke, not hearing his approach. "Well, Magnus is going to send a message to Valentine to let him know that we're here and that we are not willing to go inside the Institute to get our parents back. He'll have to meet us out here or in the cathedral itself. Once the location is set you, me, Isabelle, and Magnus will go in first, which Simon uses that fog thing to sneak him and Chloe, Tori, Derek, and Rae in."

Jace nodded vaguely. "We'll have to find a way to buy some time while they sneak in."

Alec spluttered. "I guess we could ask that my parents are okay-"

"I'll speak to him," Jace said decidedly. "I have some for dear old dad anyway. He owes me a few explanations, and I figure he'll want to talk to me. That should give Simon come time."

Carefully, Alec placed a hand on Jace's shoulder and said, "Do you think that is best? I mean," he added hurriedly "we need you to be completely focused, and if you're arguing with Valentine…"

Alec saw the look of poorly disguised anger on Jace's face. "I will not be _arguing_ with Valentine. I just want to ask him some questions about my real family. I think I have a right to know."

Alec turned his eyes away, unable to reply to that. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Jace felt the anger slip away as quickly as it had come. "I won't," he sighed. "It's just that-that he lied to me for a long time and I want the truth."

"It's only fair," Alec hedged, "but just be careful, Jace. Valentine is manipulative and he might try to trick you…I mean, he is trying to get his hands on you and Clary."

"I'll be fine," said Jace impassively.

Alec nodded but didn't say anything, and he and Jace waited silently until there was a crunch behind them and Derek came up from behind. He seemed very _wolfy_, Jace decided when he flicked his gaze over the werewolf. His eyes were glowing brightly, more yellow than green, and there was a poorly contained tension in his body. Derek's muscles were clenching and unclenching, and his actions were sharp and fast. His hair even seemed to be standing on end.

"Has Magnus sent a message yet?" he asked with a forced control in his voice. "I don't like standing around in the fog. Valentine could easily attack us when we're unprepared."

"I've already said that's not how Valentine fights," Jace sighed. "He won't use some secret attack, he'll want to meet us head on. To prove he's not a coward."

Derek turned a curious eye on Jace. "Can we be sure? You know how he acts, but that doesn't mean he's going to be playing by the rules today. He wants something, Jace, and that something happens to be you, and he's probably prepared to go to very good lengths to get you. We can't be sure."

Jace blinked. "I am." And then he walked away, constantly looking up at the spires of the Institute.

Derek decided that Jace seemed very hard and distant. His eyes were cold and when he moved, he looked like a lion moving through the fog. He cleared his throat and turned to Alec. "Jace doesn't look very comfortable."

"He's not," Alec sighed. "He offered to distract Valentine for us while you all sneak in. I don't think he's looking forward to that talk much."

"Yes," said Derek decidedly. "That is going to be a little strange."

Magnus turned up behind them then, and he placed a hand on Alec's shoulder. "I've just sent Valentine a message, so it's now or never."

Alec nodded sharply and turned to Derek. "Gather your friends and wait behind us. We'll meet Valentine when he arrives, and we'll call you out when it's time. It's not going to be like at the Edison Group. This isn't going to be a clean fight. People could get hurt, and if it happens, you just have to keep moving. Don't try to protect your family and friends; they can take care of themselves. You all need to focus on the battle, not each other."

"We know how to fight," Derek said gruffly, but there was a faint look of fear in his eyes, and Alec knew he was thinking of Chloe. It was same look Alec saw in his own eyes whenever he watched Jace run off into battle.

"It's just a very different kind of fighting."

Derek snorted and turned away to join his family. They looked so different compared to the shadowhunters, Alec thought. They were gathered together, their bodies touching as if trying to give each other strength and love to carry along. The fog seemed to circle around them and envelop them in a protective cocoon. No matter what was about to happen, they would always been drawn together by this love. It was their most powerful weapon, and Alec felt his chest tighten at the sight of it.

Shadowhunters didn't fight like that. They were warriors, yes, but they weren't a family. They fought together and they lived together, but when battle was all around them they were separate. The idea of family was too painful for them to consider, too emotional and raw for them to function. They had to be like steel.

"Magnus," Alec said, turning to face the warlock. "When this is over, I'm moving in with you."

Magnus, who had up until then been twiddling this thumbs and shoot sparks out of his fingers, felt his jaw drop. "And when did you make this decision?"

"Just now," shrugged Alec. "I think I'd like to live with you. I'm tired of being trapped in a family that is just for show."

"What about your sister and brother? What about Jace?" Magnus couldn't keep Jace out of it. He didn't think there would ever be a time when Alec would stop thinking about Jace.

"Jace has Clary now, and Isabelle and Max have each other," said Alec. "This whole idea of family, it's not something I understand, and I think it's because I've spent my entire life growing up with a mom and dad who are only half there. I never felt like I had a family, so all of this feels wrong. I mean, I know I have to save my parents-I owe them that much-but I just don't feel like I'm doing it for love."

Magnus blinked and then smiled sadly. "It's a hard life, that of a warrior. You grow up with a bow on your back and a blade in your hand, and you hear words like honor and righteousness and duty, but that doesn't mean the same thing as love." Gently, Magnus reached out and stroked Alec's shoulder. "If you want to live with me, I won't stop you. I'd be more than happy to make room for you. The moment all this is settled I'll-"

A low growl cut off whatever Magnus was going to say, and Alec and snapped to attention. A little ways away, Jace had sprung to his feet, his blades in his hands and his eyes roving for the demon who had made the sounds. Isabelle was standing quietly, making her face like a mask. There was another moment of silence, and then another snarl filled the air, though it was muted by the fog.

"You've come," came a very clear voice. It was authoritative and strong, a voice that could lead you to hell if it wanted. "I admit, I didn't know if you would forgive your parents betrayal."

"Valentine," Alec said, and he forced his voice to remain steady. "Valentine, bring us our parents. We've come, just as you asked."

There was a pause, and then, "True, you have, and I am a man of my word. But, I have a request of my own, since this seems as good a time as any to bring it up. I see my son is here."

Jace glanced at Alec, and then spoke. "I am, though I don't count myself as your son anymore. I know the truth about Clary and I."

"Do you?" Valentine's voice was drawing nearer. "I highly doubt you know the whole truth of the matter, but you know the truth that matters most to you, so you are content. You know you and Clary are not siblings, and you know your feelings for her are not an abomination. Congratulations."

Jace bristled but kept the calm in his voice. "What do you want with me, Valentine? I have come to see Myrse and Robert brought back safely, not to speak with you."

"Well, you're going to speak with me, Jace, as I am very curious about you. We need to have a chat, the two of us." Valentine paused, and Jace could tell he was only yards away from them. "There is so much I want to learn from you. So much to discover in your blood."

"Then come meet me," Jace said. "Stop hiding and face me. You've got a lot to answer for, Valentine. I've got a few of my own questions, come to think of it."

Valentine laughed. "Excellent."

The fog broke split as a dog shaped demon sprang through the clouds. Its eyes were bright red and teeth as long as knives. When it landed, the earth around it caught fire and sizzled. It scented the air and turned those fiery eyes on Jace. There was hunger in its look.

The demon provided enough of a distraction, because when Jace looked up, Valentine was standing before him with the Soul Sword in his hand. He flicked his gaze over Jace as if assessing the value of an animal, and when his eyes met Jace's, there was a very cruel gleam to them. Then he smiled and it morphed his face into something beastly. Valentine didn't smile often enough to make Jace feel comfortable, so he tightened his grip on his blade and cleared his throat.

"Nice to see you again," he said with a smile like a razor. "I'm surprised you'd have the nerve to speak to me."

Valentine's eyebrow perked up. "Do you know how amusing I find that, because I was going to say the same thing to you."

Jace refused to let the heat rush to his face, and instead, straightened his back. "You didn't think I'd have the nerve to speak to you? I'm not scared of you, Valentine; I have no qualms meeting with you."

"I didn't think you were scared, though it might behoove of you to reconsider that. No, I was referring to the fact that you come before me as the monster that you are. You know I have no compassion for anything less than human." Valentine saw a muscle in Jace's jaw work and he smiled. "I would have thought you and your ragtag assortment of friends would be deep in hiding by now."

"And why would we be hiding?" Jace ground out.

"Because when I finish this war I will hunt you all down. You should at least give me a little sport," said Valentine, fingering the hilt of the Soul Sword with care. "I figured you, Jonathan, might put up some sort of fight."

"My name is Jace," he said quickly, "and that's what I'm doing here."

"How very noble of you, _Jace_," sneered Valentine. "I'm glad you've adopted that name. It will be hard for me to continue this charade of you being my son once this is over. I'm afraid that your future is not to continue being a Morgenstern."

"Pity that," snapped Jace, his eyes darting over Valentine's shoulder. "But I guess I'll manage."

While Jace and Valentine had been talking, Alec and Isabelle had crept forward and were searching out their parents. Jace was almost positive that the Lightwoods were right behind Valentine, kept just out of reach, probably by that blond man Isabelle had described on many occasions. He strained his sight to see, but Valentine must have known what he was trying because he moved ever so slightly.

"But, for all the bad blood between us, I am glad you've decided to make an appearance. It will make all this easier." Valentine glanced at the blade in Jace's hand. "Tell me, where is Clarissa?"

"Go to hell," Jace hissed. "You think I'd let you anywhere near her? She was your daughter and you sold her to the Edison Group for experimentation. I'm going to make sure that you never see her again."

"So she's not here?" Valentine mused softly, his gaze returning to Jace with a calculated expression. "This changes things just ever so slightly, you must see. I had hoped to give you an honorable death, Jace, one befitting a shadowhunter. It was the best I could do by you. But, now, things have changed…"

"I don't see why," spat Jace. "You still want me and all my friends dead."

"Yes, but the time of death had changed. I suppose it won't hurt to keep you alive just a little longer. Just long enough for Clary to come find you, because she will come, Jace." Valentine glanced over his shoulder. "Jonathan, bring the Lightwoods."

Jace tensed, waiting to see who this boy was, waiting to see who had caused so many problems for the Lightwoods. When Jonathan came forward, Jace gasped. There was no mistaking who he was. The face, the carved cheek bones, the dark eyes, the white hair; it was like looking at a younger Valentine, expect one with poorly controlled fury instead of a smooth, solid visage. Jonathan heard Jace gasp and grinned.

He had been waiting years to see this boy, this angel child, and here he was. Jonathan felt his stomach constrict with fury and he had the urge to reach out and tear Jace to shreds with his hands. He was a handsome boy, with quick eyes and a determined glint to his eye. He looked like a warrior, but Jonathan wondered how he would match up against the power of a greater demon.

"You collection," Valentine said with a wave. "Unharmed as I promised."

Myrse saw Jace and her face screwed up into something terrible. "Jace, what are you doing here!"

"I-I came to get you from Valentine." Jace forced himself to remain calm though the memory of their betrayal was burning away at him. "Alec and Isabelle are here too."

"Get out of here!" Myrse yelled, but too late, for Jonathan swung back his hand and hit her hard enough to send her reeling.

Jace bristled, but it was Isabelle who came forward now, her eyes blazing. "Don't you dare, you bastard."

Jonathan smiled at Isabelle. "I believe I already have."

"Stop it, Jonathan," said Valentine vaguely. His eyes were still on Jace, hungry and expectant. "So, Jace, are you here to fight me and force me to admit what I did was wrong? Or did you really just come to save the Lightwoods?"

"Possibly a bit of both, I'm somewhat undecided right now." Jace glanced to the right and saw Derek prowling forward through a cloud of fog. "It depends if you're going to call off your demons or not."

"Why would I do that?" asked Valentine. "They are my protection, and they obey me explicitly."

Jace opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the fog. It was Chloe, and she emerged from the clouds looking furious. "Either call them off, or I will."

"Who's this?" Valentine turned to Jace. "Another one of those Edison monstrosities?"

Chloe smirked. "Call me what you want. It won't change the fact that your sword can only do so much for you." She had seen the pain in Jace's face whenever Valentine called him a monster, and it shook her resolve. She had meant to come, completely in control of herself, send the demons away and save the Lightwoods. She never thought she'd see Jace's face so contorted in pain. If anything, it just made Chloe angrier. "And who do you think you are, calling us names? You're the one who wants to murder children. You're worse than me, you're worse than an animal."

"How dare you?" seethed Jonathan.

"Oh, shut up," said Tori, emerging from the mist to join Chloe with her fingers burning. "You're no different than we are."

"Watch yourself, witch," breathed Jonathan.

Tori cocked a hip and smirked. "What are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?

All hell broke loose at those words.

Jonathan, so eager to fight Jace, felt a burning sensation pump through his body. He threw the Lightwoods to the ground just as Valentine yelled in frustration, and lunged for Tori. He'd kill her first and work his way to Jace, but the idea was no sooner in action than being stopped. Tori threw her hands up and Jonathan was blasted back.

Demons, seeing one of their own fallen, surged forward to attack and were met by Chloe's spells. They lunged forward only to stagger to a halt before turning on one and other. But as Chloe watched, Valentine summoned more demons, and she felt her resolve weaken.

Derek, now in complete wolf form shot through the crowd to find Chloe and guard her while she fought the demons, but he found his path blocked by something big and black and partially made of smoke. It was the demon dog that had snarled at Jace. He snapped at it, clawed at it, took out chunks of its body, but it kept regenerating. Finally, with a flustered howl, he dove at it, sinking as many claws and teeth as he could into the thing's flesh.

Simon had come forward and was helping Isabelle to reach her parents, who were both lying bound on the ground. He shot odd balls of fire every which way and hoping they were hitting demons and not allies. When he got to her side, she turned, smiled, and then flung herself into the disarray.

Alec and Magnus were fighting back to back, trying to force any stray demons into a corner, and when Alec saw his sister making her way to his parents, he tugged Magnus toward them. Whatever had been guarding their parents wasn't just Jonathan, and they were going to need someone capable of casting powerful spells to break through. Their progress was hindered by the demons, but they forced their way through the crowds, though behind them demons just kept reforming.

Jace alone seemed to be making progress, but nothing he took any stock by. He had forced Valentine away from the Lightwoods, and was trying to trap him in a corner. So far, he had managed to separate Valentine from his son and demon armies, but the man was no fool with a blade.

"This is pointless, Jace, this battle. I'm going to win, and I'm going to take you back to Idris." He slashed his sword through the air, just barely missing Jace's face. "I'll keep you there until Clary comes, and the day she comes to get you, I'm going to slit your throat. In front of her."

"You're wrong," was all Jace managed to say before he had to spin away to dodge Valentine's sword.

"You think?" Valentine brought up his blade and smashed it down on the blade in Jace's hand, send vibrations through his arm. "I'm always right, in this especially. I planned to kill you, but I could find a use for you. I could finally figure out what the Edison Group did to you. I could finish their experiment." He lunged forward and Jace stumbled back. Valentine, seeing Jace off guard, slammed him back into the wall of the Institute, pressed the edge of the Soul Sword against his throat. "And then I'll have Clarissa, and I'll finish her too."

"No!" Jace hit wildly with whatever freedom he had left, but Valentine had him pinned.

"Don't struggle, Jace, it will make this so much harder than it has to be." He pressed harder, cutting off the air flow. "You were my son once, and I wanted to protect you, make you into something better, but this is how it ends."

"I'll kill you…if you touch her," Jace rasped.

"No you won't," said Valentine decidedly. "You won't have the chance, not where I'm putting you. Though, before you die, you're going to be of some use to me."

"Not in your life," Jace gasped as the air left his lungs.

This seemed to amuse Valentine and his eyes took on a manic light. "Not in _yours_."


	7. Desertion

_Author's note: Hey everyone, sorry this was late. I always try to get a new chapter once a week, but had two college midterms to study for last week and not enough time in the day to write. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!_

Desertion

"It's too hot in here," whined Max, sitting by the window of Clary's room. He was watching the sun set in the distance, watching the road that led to the house, watching for his family to return. He kept getting up and turning circles around the small room, looking pensive and drawn. He wanted his family back. "Can I open the window?"

Clary sighed and pushed herself up; she didn't think she could sleep anyway. "Go ahead, there's a nice breeze outside anyway. It might even do me some good."

Max threw himself at the window and pushed and shoved until the frame slid up with a grinding noise. At once, a burst of cool air filled the room and Clary felt the heat on the back of her neck vanish; it felt good to be free of the oppressive warmth. Instead of rising to the window and joining Max, though, Clary hung back and watched him. She didn't want to look out that window and wait for Jace to come back, especially when she swore to herself that she wouldn't.

"When will they be back?" Max turned to face Clary, his jaw set. "What's taking so long?"

Clary set her back firmly. "Who knows, Max? Things don't always go as planned in war. Sometimes, people make mistakes." She tried to hold her gaze stern, but the look on Max's face was something she couldn't contend with. He looked so heartbroken.

"But not Alec and Isabelle…and Jace. They're too good of fighters to be caught by Valentine. They're too smart." Max looked like he was thinking quick. "I've seen Jace fight, I've seen him kill before, and there's no one as good as him. And Isabelle is amazing with her whip, and Alec is great with a bow, and they've got Magnus and all the other Downworlders with them. And-"

"Max," Clary said slowly, beckoning him over. "Calm down, there's nothing to worry about. I was just being a little anxious. I'm sorry." Max came over and settled himself on the bed beside Clary and looked at her long and hard. Jace loved her, trusted her, so that must count for something. "I guess, sometimes, I get worried about Jace, the same way you do, and it's hard to think about him out there. It scares me."

Max's face was incredulous. "It scares _you_?"

"Of course it does," said Clary stoutly. "I love him, and I hate to see him go. It scares me because I wonder what I'll do if he doesn't come back."

This seemed to be a new idea to Max who had grown up living with death as a constant companion. He had always seen the world in a way that emphasized the idea that anyone you love might die tomorrow and there was nothing you could do about, so to hear an adult talking to him about fear was revolutionary. "I didn't think adults got scared."

"Really?" Clary smiled wanly at the boy. "You don't think you're parents are scared for you right now? You don't think that Isabelle gets scared every time she has to take that whip and carry it out with her? You don't think Jace is scared he'll never see you again?"

"I think Jace is scared he'll never see _you _again."

Clary flushed at that and thought back to her parting words with Jace. "He might be, but he hides it well enough that we'll never know."

"But you know he loves you, so that's what matters, isn't it?" Max had stopped even moving around on the bed and was staring up at her with new respect. "Knowing should be enough."

Clary bit her lip; Max seemed to know more of her thoughts than she was comfortable revealing. "Well…then knowing that your family is coming should be enough for now."

Max frowned but didn't return to the subject. "Why did they leave us with the demon girl? Why didn't she go along with them?"

"Rae is…"Clary paused, trying to think of a way to explain to Max Rae's strange predicament. "Rae is not exactly like the others. She hasn't been with us since Lyle House, and we don't-don't want to put her under the strain that we are."

"You don't trust her, do you?" Max said quickly. "It's not your fault. She's part demon. I don't like how she watches me. She's not human."

"Max!" Clary said quickly, standing and rushing to the door. She poked her head out, searching for the retreating figure of Rae, but she was nowhere to be seen. Carefully, so as not to make a sound, she closed the door and rounded on Max. "Just because she's part demon doesn't mean she's bad. Magnus is some part demon, isn't he, and you have no problem with him. In fact, I think you like him, so what's wrong with Rae?"

"She's not like Magnus!" Max cried angrily. "I don't trust her. Magnus has been helping us from the start, but Rae just stands there on the side, looking all lost and confused. It's time she grew up!"

"Max, you can't say that about her. You don't know what her life was like."

"I know what mine is like, and I bet there's nothing worse out there than this!" Max lost his sense of peace he had had before and bounded off the bed. He threw himself at the window, glaring out. "We're hiding from Valentine Morgenstern because our parents betrayed us to him, and now we have to rescue them because they got in over their heads!"

Clary was surprised by the amount of information that Max understood. She thought of him as young, and that young children never knew what was fully going on in their lives. But Max seemed very well aware of how life was, and Clary wondered if being a shadowhunter had anything to do with it. Maybe growing up with loss made you a stronger more intelligent individual. Maybe it just made you so miserable you could only see the worst in life.

_Maybe it doesn't matter in the end. Maybe the outcome is what's important. _Clary sighed and followed Max to the window. She didn't like the idea of confronting her problems, but Max was a child, and a child who needed comfort.

"Max, maybe you're right," Clary said at first, and she wrapped both her arms around him. She was shocked to find he was shaking. "Maybe Rae is just being a child, and maybe she does need to grow up, but we can't force her by yelling at her. She's not you, Max. She didn't grow up with your parents and your life, so you can't expect her to just take to it so easily." Max swallowed down tears and turned to Clary. She rubbed his hair and held him closer. "Do you know what empathy means?"

Max shrugged. "No, all I know is not to be empathetic to Downworlders."

"Yes," groaned Clary. "And that's a problem I think that needs to be resolved. I think a little empathy in shadowhunters might be a good thing. It probably would have stopped all of this from happening."

"How?" Max asked though he didn't pull his face away from Clary's side.

"Empathy is the ability to understand someone else, to put yourself in the life of another person and live it." Clary perched precariously on the windowsill ledge. "If shadowhunters tried to understand Downworlders, there wouldn't be this gulf between us. Maybe Valentine would never have tried to ruin the Accords. Maybe he wouldn't be trying to bring the Clave down now."

"Mom told me that Valentine trying to stop the Accords was what united us," sniffled Max.

"We wouldn't need the Accords if we could just accept the Downworlders," pointed out Clary gently.

"Downworlders don't accept us," Max said, and finally lifted his eyes up to Clary. "They don't trust us."

"Then we'll have to give them reason to." Clary took Max's cheek and raised his whole head up. "Look at Derek and Simon and Chloe and Tori. They trust us, don't they? And now, they're helping us fight Valentine. We just need to let the rest of the Downworlder population know that we're fighting for them too."

"They're always so suspicious of us…" hedged Max.

Clary knew that Max had been ingrained with the usual shadowhunter complex, and that he was mistrusting of Downworlders probably more so than they were of him. It was a flaw in the Clave that had kept the two races very separate and might well have been the cause for the animosity between them.

"We just have to accept that and move on," Clary said decidedly.

Max sniffled and then turned his face to the window. "I just want Isabelle and Alec to come back. I don't like it when they're gone, especially when they're trying to fight Valentine. What if they get hurt or…" Max's voice warbled off for a moment, and then he frowned. "Clary, what's that?"

Clary peered out the window into the grassy slopes beyond and saw something loping along the edge of the tree line. It was bulky, but for all its weight, moved very gracefully. When Clary threw open the window, the thing came to shuddering halt and turned its head sharply to face her. It knew she was watching.

"Max, go lock the door downstairs," Clary murmured, never taking her eyes off the thing.

"It is locked," Max said sharply.

"Then go get Rae," Clary replied just as fast. She didn't want Max near any open space with a thing prowling around. It might have been sent by Valentine and she didn't think that Alec or Isabelle would forgive her for their little brother getting hurt.

Max furrowed his brow, not really wanting to be around the demon girl, but he nodded and turned and left. Clary waited till he was gone, to spin around and rush back to her bed and find a stele blade tucked in the pillow. She rushed back to the window, thinking desperately of any Mark she could make that would help to defend them against a demon.

Just as Clary raised the stele and focused her mind on creating a new rune, the thing lunged from the shadows of the trees and landed in the sunlight. Clary gasped in recognition at the furry brown coat as she dropped the stele in shocked joy. The thing wasn't a demon, it wasn't even evil; it was huge furry wolf with a thoughtful muzzle and big curious eyes.

"Luke!" Clary cried, forgetting that she was two stores above him. She leaned against the window and waved frantically. "Luke!"

Luke howled and then darted for the door. Clary turned about so fast she almost tripped over her own feet, but she dashed to the door and down the stairs as fast as she could. Max had Rae be the hand was just about to lead her up the stairs when Clary came rushing down. They collided on the raised platform at the stair base, but Clary was too overcome with joy to care. She struggled out of the pile of bodies and rushed around them

"Clary!" Max cried while Rae grumbled to herself about a bruise rising on her arm. "Clary, I saw the thing out there. It's huge, it's-"

Clary laughed and threw the door open. She was out of the house in a second, rushing through dying grass and cool air, and the wolf was darting towards her, a low bark escaping its mouth before it launched itself in the air. Clary watched as the wolf landed and was now in the form of Luke. He looked up, smiled, and then held out his arms.

There was no hesitation in Clary when she threw herself into Luke's arms. He was like some long lost friend, and he brought back the past. The years she'd spent in the New York apartment, her paints, her books, and most of all, her mom. Luke was the one thing in her life that was a living reminder of her mom. When Clary stepped back from him there were tears in her eyes.

"Luke," Clary gasped, searching his face. "Luke, I didn't know if I was going to see you again. When we were taken, I didn't think I could get out, and then with Valentine out there…"

Luke wiped the tears off Clary's face. "Don't cry, Clary. Everything is fine, I'm fine. I've been worried about you, though. What happened to you?" Clary couldn't put thoughts into words, and she just kept smiling and crying. Luke wrapped his arm around her and hugged her closer. "One moment, I heard you were with the Lightwoods, and then you were gone. Ran off after Jace."

"It was the Edison Group," Clary sniffled, turning slowly back to the house. "The Edison Group took Jace and I and a bunch of other kids. They were keeping us at this place called Lyle House."

"I've never heard of the Edison Group," Luke mused, looking up at Magnus's house and frowning a little. "If you were being held hostage how did you get here? I just got a letter from Jace saying you were here and that I should come."

"Jace sent for you?" Clary asked, confused.

"Well, yes." Luke reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a letter. "He said you were expecting me, actually; I'm surprised he didn't tell you. Where is he anyway?" Luke suddenly looked panicked. "He needs to know about Jonathan."

"Jonathan?" Clary asked, her heart starting to pound faster. "Who's Jonathan?"

Luke gave Clary a hard look, measuring her up. Finally, he sighed and held her by the shoulders. "He's your brother, and he's looking for Jace."

"Why?" Clary asked sharply, completing disregarding the fact that she had a brother. "What does my brother want with Jace?"

Luke shook his head. "Where's Jace, Clary? I just need to talk to him before he goes after Valentine. Jonathan will be with Valentine."

Luke was surprised when Clary's face changed from a shocked, almost horrified look, to a smile. Her eyes were glowing insanely and laughter shook from her throat. She spun around from Luke and started the laugh to loudly the birds in the trees paused. She bent over, holding her sides together from the laughter. She laughed so hard it was hurting her. When Luke came over he saw that she was crying.

"Clary, where is Jace?"

"Gone, Luke," Clary whispered, then she swallowed and cried aloud. "He's gone! Ran off to save his parents, fight Valentine. He left yesterday and said he'd be back by dinner tonight."

Luke gaped at Clary, so lost for words, and then he drew her closer to him so that they were face to face. "When did he leave?"

"Yesterday," Clary said blankly, that same crazy smile still on her face. "He promised to come back to me yesterday."

"When were they supposed to be back?" Luke demanded, giving Clary a little shake.

Clary shrugged and collapsed into herself. Her laughter lifted higher and higher, and Luke watched her helplessly as she shook. He saw the door to the house open and Max followed by another strange girl come out. They were watching Clary anxiously, looking from her to Luke and trying to glean some information as to what had happened. Luke had bent down so that he was level with Clary.

"When are they supposed to be back, Clary?"

When Clary lifted her eyes up to Luke they were empty. All the humor and hope was gone, only a lifeless void, that gave Luke a very good idea of what had happened, remained. Clary turned her glassy eyes to the horizon where the sun had finally slipped beyond the tree line, painting the sky crimson, and tried to remember what Jace had told her right before he left.

Her lips pulled back into a twisted smirk. "They're late," she said, and then threw herself against Luke, tears and screeches echoing out of her throat.

* * *

><p>"…he hurt?"<p>

"Maybe, but he's sleeping now."

"No, look, I saw his eyes moving!"

"Jace!"

All the voices echoed inside Jace's head, making a sharp pain explode behind his eyes. He could recognize them all, but that didn't really bring him any comfort. It just meant that wherever Valentine had taken him, he had brought Jace's friends with him. Carefully, worried that too much light might hurt, he opened his eyes.

Jace shouldn't have been worried about the light; wherever he was, there was none. At first, all Jace saw were a ring of burning torches, their light flickering against stone walls. They were like pricks in the darkness, and Jace was drawn to them, but when he moved forward, his hands brushes against metal bars. He ran his hands up and down the bars, and realized that they were maybe a foot and half tall and at least an inch thick, and there were a lot of them.

"Where am I?" Jace rasped, and his voice bounced off the bars and walls and anything else in the room. "What's going on?"

"Jace?" It was Alec, and he was some distance away to the right. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," Jace replied, and he could almost see Alec roll his eyes. "Alec, what's going on?"

"I have no clue. Valentine called a bunch of demon reinforcements and they overtook us. I passed out, I think we all did, and then we woke up here."

"Is everyone okay?" Jace shifted his weight and found that he had been lying on his side, pressed against a wall. He rolled forward and hit the metal bars up and down his body. He was in some sort of cage. "Is everyone alive?"

"Yes," Alec said slowly. "But…I don't know for how long. Valentine and Jonathan were down here earlier, talking about something…someone. They said he wasn't right, and before they killed them they were going to figure out what he was." Alec paused thoughtfully. "They don't mean Derek or Simon?"

"They could have," came a gruff voice from directly across from Jace. "Simon and I aren't exactly Valentine's favorites, are we?"

"He means me," said Jace, who was trying to maneuver his hands beyond the bars and feel for the lock. "Valentine was talking about me. I'm not exactly the shadowhunter I used to be. Don't panic, Derek."

"That's not really my style," Derek replied.

"Is Chloe okay?" Jace asked, surprising himself with his interest in the necromancer.

"She's fine, you know, except for the part about being locked in a cage by an insane man who wants to cut her open," Derek said sharply.

"It's alright," came Chloe's voice, and she was above Jace, he noted. "It's not like I'm not used to it. Almost like Lyle House all over again."

"And everyone else?" Jace pressed. "Valentine hasn't done anything to them yet?"

"Not yet," came Simon.

Jace tried to sit up, but he bumped his head hard against the ceiling. "Well, I guess that's good news," he growled. "Alec, do we know what happened to your parents?"

"No, and Jonathan dragged Isabelle out a little while ago." Alec was obviously trying to sound calm, but his voice was shaking. "I swear to God, if he hurts her-"

"They won't," Jace said with certainty. "Valentine wants servants, not dead bodies. Isabelle is a Lightwood, an older shadowhunter family; he'll keep her alive."

"That's not comforting to me," Alec replied. "I don't want her anywhere around that man."

"Then I guess you're going to be disappointed, aren't you, Alexander?"

Jace jerked his head so fast he didn't have time to remember that there was a stone ceiling above his head. The pain that shot through Jace's skull let him know he was going to have a bump. It had been Valentine speaking, though where he was, Jace couldn't tell in the dark. He strained his eyes, trying to see, trying to listen, trying to do anything that might give him the upper hand. He saw a torch flicker as if stirred by a breeze, but that was it. He stopped breathing, trying to hear even a footstep.

Suddenly, the torches flared up, illuminating the room and blinding Jace. When he opened his eyes, Valentine was kneeling before Jace, his face pressed as close to the bars as it could be. His stony eyes were glowing with curiosity and his lips were pulled back in a strange smile that didn't reach the rest of his face. Jace's breath came out in a weak rush, whistling past his parted lips.

"Good evening, Jace," Valentine said pleasantly. "I'm glad you're awake. I was worried I might have killed you too soon."

"Yes, that would have been a pity, wouldn't it?" Jace was glad to note he still managed to sound sarcastic. "Waiting for a special date I suppose?"

"The day my daughter comes to rescue you, actually, but you already know that." Valentine leaned closer, and then flicked his stele out before him so Jace could see it too. "Would you care to come out of there? You look cramped."

Jace, peering just a little beyond Valentine, saw a stone table raised out of the ground, shackles dangling off the sides like waiting snakes. He returned his gaze to Valentine. "Not really. It's rather cozy in here, actually."

Valentine must have known what Jace saw, because he smiled. "I had assumed you might be used to this treatment by now. Regardless, I really wasn't asking. It was just courtesy that forced me to ask." Valentine drew the stele closer and Jace realized that the lock to his cage must have been a rune.

"Get away from me!" Jace hissed, scrambling backward fast.

The door to the cage creaked open, and Valentine held the blade steadily at Jace before reaching in and catching him by the collar of his shirt. "Come now, is that any way to greet your father?" he said before dragging him forward by the scruff of his neck. "You and I, we have _so much _to discuss."


	8. Shattered

Shattered

Jonathan stood in the shadows of the room, watching the small family reunion, and he smiled sickly. They looked so uncertain around each other, so uncomfortable. Their eyes couldn't meet, their hands never touched, their voices never raised in joy. The Lightwood family was destroyed, broken, shattered into pieces, and he had helped to see it happen. It was only fair that another family had been ruined after his had been torn apart by love and hate.

The girl, Isabelle, looked between her parents and tried to summon the strength to smile, to be happy that they were together again, but that was impossible. Jonathan knew that she hadn't forgiven her parents for the treatment of Jace, and she was never going to forget how they had agreed to work for Valentine. Jonathan watched as Isabelle very carefully ran her eyes over her parents and tried to inspect a wound on her mother's face.

There was something in Myrse's eyes though that made Jonathan scowl. It looked almost like hope and love mingled together, something desperate and longing, and Jonathan knew that Valentine had never looked at him like that. How was it right that he had done everything his father had ever asked, and yet, when Valentine turned his gaze upon his son, he didn't show a flicker of love? Why did the Lightwoods love their daughter when she had disobeyed them and run off with a warlock?

_Degenerates, that's what they are. They have no sense of shame, no sense of glory; they are not better than dogs._ Jonathan's lips curled back and he felt tension in his hands. He wanted to hurt someone, wanted to make someone pay for the affection he never felt. _No one deserves love. _

Love was the one thing that Jonathan despised above all, and it was because he didn't have it. His father had never shown him any attention, any love, anything but that distant likeness, that acceptance. He seemed to put up with Jonathan, but he felt nothing for him. Not like he felt for Jace.

_Angel boy_, Jonathan sneered, turning away from the Lightwoods a moment. _What did little Jace do to earn my father's love? I am his _son_ but he would rather have that freak thing for a son. He's nothing, a pretender, a fraud, an orphan…_

Then anger simmered inside Jonathan, making his hands shake and his heart pound. He _was_ going to hurt someone. He was going to get his hands around someone and make them suffer for him. They would pay for the pain he felt, or whatever Jonathan could feel that was like pain. He drew forward out of the shadows and approached the Lightwoods, clumped together in the small study Valentine had stuffed them in.

"Well, isn't this just a lovely family reunion?" Jonathan asked, twirling a blade in his hands like it was a toy. "Mother and father and daughter all together once more."

"Where's my son?" Myrse demanded at once, drawing Isabelle into her arms. "What have you done with Alec?"

"Of your children, Myrse, only Isabelle is deserving to escape her prison, and only for a short while. Your son, Alec, has committed a high crime against the Clave, and he will be punished for it."

"Crime?" Robert hissed. "Alec was never anything but a perfect son."

"A perfect son in love with a warlock?"

Myrse and Robert stared, unable to comprehend what Jonathan had just said. He looked between them and laughed at the looks on their faces. Isabelle was furious, or course, and she twisted out of her mother's arms to face Jonathan.

"So what?" Isabelle snarled. "So what if Alec is gay? He's got someone who loves him, and it's more than when you've got."

Jonathan blinked and smiled gradually, enjoying the emotions that were slowly leaking out of the girls face. "I would not want the love of another man, let alone that of a warlock. Though I might certainly take the love of a beautiful girl." Jonathan smiled, wantonly provocative and Myrse hissed at him.

"Stay away from my daughter!" and she wrapped Isabelle back up in her arms.

"I have no interest in your daughter," Jonathan said with a smirk, but his eyes lingered on Isabelle hungrily. "At least not in the sense that you're getting at. She is far more valuable alive, if you were worried."

"Isabelle will have nothing to do with you or Valentine." Robert stepped forward, feeling for the first time in a while that he was behaving like a true shadowhunter. "You want me and Myrse, not some child."

"Oh, but you're _so_ wrong," Jonathan hissed. "You and Myrse are useless now, as are most of the adult shadowhunters in this day and age. They're all so set in their ways, so sure of themselves; it's too late for the older generation of shadowhunters. We must turn to the new." Jonathan again turned his eyes on Isabelle, and this time, he offered up a hand. "Isabelle, I think you and I have something to discuss."

"I want nothing to do with you," Isabelle said through her mother's arms. "You took my family from me and chased me and my brothers throughout the city; if you died today, I wouldn't bat an eye.

"Ah, but Isabelle, but I have something to offer you that no one else could," Jonathan said and he moved closer. "You, Isabelle, could have so much in this world, all you'd have to do it hear me out. Listen." He watched her brown eyes darken. "It will be worth your life, even the lives of the people you love."

Isabelle had been about to spit out another curse at Jonathan, but his words pulled her up short. She felt her mother's arms around her and saw her father's form before her; could she really protect them? And what about Alec? Jonathan had made it clear that Alec wasn't worth much, might even be dead soon. She swallowed and managed to maneuver out of her mother's arms.

"How do you mean?" Isabelle asked softly, avoiding her mother's desperate grasp. "What can I do, and what are you willing to give me?"

"Walk with me, girl," Jonathan replied, and then offered his hand again. "We'll discuss your prospects."

"Isabelle, don't," Robert said, and he reached out for her. "We'll protect you."

Jonathan snorted and Isabelle gave her father a strange look. They had been supposed to protect her, it had been their job as her parents, and yet they had failed once. How could Isabelle trust them again when they had already given her up? She stepped up to face Jonathan and flicked her gaze over him.

"What will you give me?" she asked Jonathan, not taking his hand but facing him squarely.

"Your family," he said simply and then took her by the wrist. "Come with me, Isabelle."

Isabelle felt the slight pressure that Jonathan was exerting on her wrist, and allowed him to pull her slightly away, but Myrse lunged forward and took Isabelle's shoulder. "No, Isabelle. Don't go with him, don't listen to him. There's nothing he can give you that it going to help us."

"Be quiet, Myrse," Jonathan said lazily, never taking his eyes off Isabelle. "What could you possible do that might help Isabelle? You sold her brother to my father like he was an animal, and you expect her to trust you? You've squandered what you had, Myrse, when you decided that Jace wasn't worth the time to protect him. It's your own fault really. What does your daughter owe you?"

"She's my daughter-"

"Stop it, mother," Isabelle said, and she shot her mother a look. "I can take care of myself, you know. I've been taking care of Max since you kicked us out. I've been keeping an eye on Alec. And I found Jace and helped him escape."

"Isabelle, please," Myrse began, but Isabelle spun about and very carefully took Jonathan's hand.

"I'd like an explanation, Jonathan," Isabelle said coldly.

"I'd be honored to give you one." Jonathan shot a victorious look at Myrse and Robert, and then led Isabelle out of the room. They wandered into the hall outside of the study in the Institute, and Isabelle was shocked by how out of place she felt. She had grown up here, but suddenly the Institute was some unknown place to her.

"I hope you have something good to say, or you might as well lock me us with my brothers," Isabelle warned him severely. "You said something about my family, and that's the only reason I'm here now."

"How admirable," sneered Jonathan. "Taking care of you family when they wouldn't give you a second thought. Maybe that's why my father was so interested in giving you a chance to save them, but I don't see the value in it. Regardless…" Jonathan turned his gaze away from Isabelle and out one of the windows to the bustling city below. "You're in a very unique position, Isabelle, and I personally suggest you accept what my father has to say."

"What position is that, exactly?" Isabelle asked without looking at Jonathan.

"A position of power, I suppose; a place that might protect you and all the people you love. You would be a leader in the new age of shadowhunters, an inspiration for children, and a…shaper of young minds."

Isabelle ran the words over quickly in her head. "You mean I would be shaping them in Valentine's image?"

Jonathan's smile quirked up. "You are smarter than you look, and that's a good thing. It will serve you well in the days to come."

"So what precisely will I be doing?" Isabelle pressed feeling like she was getting nowhere with Jonathan except farther down the Institute.

"Well, I suppose you might consider yourself a figurehead," he said thoughtfully. "The newest generation of shadowhunters will look on you and see success, and power, and beauty, and ambition. You will make them understand that Valentine isn't evil, but a wise, intelligent man who will save the Clave destruction."

"The destruction that he will bring," she muttered.

Jonathan must have heard her because he shot her a very dark look. "He's doing what is best for the Clave, and you had better get used to saying that if you want this job."

"Who's saying I want this job?" Isabelle shot back. "So far, all I've been able to understand is that I'm going to be working for Valentine by lying to other shadowhunters and convincing them that he's a good man."

"Trust me, Isabelle," Jonathan murmured, "you're going to want this job."

Isabelle didn't know how to reply to that because the look on Jonathan's face was so sure and dark it was almost frightening. She swallowed and realized that Jonathan was unlocking a door to the basement. "Where are we going?"

"There's something I think you should see before you make your decision." Jonathan pulled the door open with a groan. Before her, Isabelle saw only darkness, and she turned to face Jonathan. He saw the nervous look on her face and very gently placed his palm on her cheek. "Don't you trust me, Isabelle? I'm not going to hurt you, I swear."

Isabelle shuddered under the touch of Jonathan's hand, but forced herself to remain standing before him. "What do I need to see?"

"It's down there, in the basement," Jonathan murmured, turning Isabelle's face to the door. "I must insist you see what it is, or else I don't think you will quite understand the situation completely."

A cold breeze brushed past Isabelle and made her shuddered, but Jonathan gave her a gentle shove in the stairs direction. "You can understand why I'm less than eager to go down there?"

"Yes, but I must also insist that you go," he replied. "I think you'll want to know."

Isabelle set her shoulders and pressed her lips together into a straight line. "Well, they say knowledge is power."

Jonathan's eyes glimmered. "_Such_ power, Isabelle."

Tentatively, as if the stair might drop out before her, Isabelle placed one foot down. Beneath her foot she felt solid stone and her pulse relaxed just a little; the last thing she wanted was for her walk into darkness to be on a rickety staircase. Behind her, Jonathan placed a hand on her shoulder and provided a gentle, guiding pressure, and Isabelle began her descent slowly.

She didn't know what to expect at the end; it could have been anything, knowing Valentine. He could have all the Mortal Instruments arrayed before her, an army of demons, even an angel, singing his praises, and still, she wouldn't have been surprised. For some reason, though, Isabelle got the notion that anything kept locked in the dark beneath a church was probably terrible, even more terrible than an army of demons. She tried to linger as long as she could on the steps, but Jonathan kept pushing her, his patients beginning to wear thin. Finally, before her, Isabelle could spot a powerful glow; it burned bright white in the darkness around her and made her eyes sting.

"What is that?" she asked, not turning away from the light. "Who's down there?"

"That's what you have to see," Jonathan murmured, and his voice grew darker. "You have to understand the entire situation at hand."

Isabelle frowned but knew she wasn't going to turn back. Setting her mind forward, she took the last set of stairs before her nerves failed her. Just as she reached the base of the stairs a low groan split the air and she skidded to a halt. Before her was a scene she had tried not to picture when going over the things Valentine might be doing. She had hoped for something, anything, else, but being faced with it now made her knees quiver and any fight left in her go out. She stumbled back.

"Stop it!" Isabelle cried, but even her voice seemed to fail her then, and only a weak rasp escaped her.

* * *

><p>Luke supported Clary into the house under the watchful eyes of Max and the strange girl, and directed her to a seat in the kitchen. She slumped there helplessly and looked about her blankly. Luke found a glass and filled it with water before returning to her. Before he could give her the glass, though, the girl reached out and stopped him. She gave him a hard look and Luke smelled something strange in the air around her.<p>

"Who are you?" she demanded, flicking her eyes over him.

"I'd ask you the same thing," Luke began, but Clary raised her hand.

"Don't worry, Rae. This is Luke; he's a friend of my mom's, kinda like my dad." Clary snatched the glass of water from him and sipped it. "I'm surprised Max doesn't recognize you. I'm sure he's heard of you."

Max, hearing his name, came to Clary's side. "My parents don't talk about werewolves around me."

"I was a shadowhunter once," Luke said, giving Max a hard smile. "That was a while ago, though; I don't expect your parents to talk about me."

Max nodded, but turned to Clary with concern. "What's wrong, Clary? Has something happened?"

"We can only assume something has," she replied lifelessly and her eyes shifted to Luke. "You mentioned Valentine's son, Luke, is after Jace?"

"Yes," he said carefully, glancing at Max. "I take it the Lightwoods have gone off with him? And they're not back."

"Where are my parents?" Max broke in, and Clary's hand shot out to grab his hand.

Luke saw the look of worry flit across Clary's face and he knelt before Max. "Max, can you go do me a big favor? Clary dropped her stele in her room and I want to know if you can get it for me. I need you to send a message for me."

Max's eyes widened. "Send a message with a stele?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes, since I can't really use a stele anymore I need a shadowhunter to do it for me, and Clary's in no shape to do it." Luke gave him a quick smile. "I'll show you how, if you'd like."

Max didn't miss a beat. He was up and out of the room in a moment, hurrying back up the stairs to the dropped stele and the idea of using of it. Luke waited until the door closed shut to the kitchen before returning his attention to Clary. She was looking at him with a very vacant, almost happy stare. She sipped her water, blinked and breathed, but Luke suspected that she was far away from the house and him.

"Just because they're not back yet doesn't mean that they're hurt," Luke said at once. "It might have taken a little extra time to find the Lightwoods, and I'm sure Jace wouldn't miss an opportunity to speak with Valentine."

Clary scowled darkly. "No, Jace would _never _miss an opportunity to do that. Not when I asked him not to, not when I begged him to stay, not Jace."

"He's a foolish boy, Clary, but his intentions are for the best I think," Luke said softly, aware that Rae was watching him closely. He cleared his throat and turned to her. "Perhaps you ought to go find Max; we don't want him to hurt himself."

Rae laughed heartlessly, her eyes meeting Clary. "Max hates me. He thinks I'm some monster or something. You know, being part demon does give you a reputation. Perhaps I'm better off here, no?"

"Many of us are part demon, myself included," Luke returned, and saw Rae's eyes do a quick glance over him.

"All the same, I'd rather stay and listen to what you have to say," Rae muttered. "They're my friends, too, and I want to know what happened to them."

"We don't know that anything happened to them," Luke grumbled. "They may just be late returning here. I need the stele so Max can send a message for me."

"To who?" Rae said smartly. "Who can you send a message to that might have the time to reply?"

"Magnus will be able to receive and return messages no matter what," Luke said decidedly. "Even if he's being held prisoner Valentine couldn't stop a warlock from using magic."

"Unless he's dead," Rae said simply.

"He's not dead," Clary hissed, but then the door to the kitchen opened and Max came rushing back in. He was holding the stele like it was the most valuable thing in the world, and his eyes were burning with a desire to use it.

"The stele," Max said reverently to Luke, who watched him with faint amusement. "What should I do?"

"You'll need to copy some runes onto a paper for me once I've written the note, then you fold it in a certain way, which I'll show you, and throw it in a fire. With any luck, Magnus will receive it in a few minutes."

Max nodded quickly. "What runes?"

"Just a moment, Max," said Luke, making a turn about the kitchen until he found paper and a pen. He thought for a moment and then scribbled so Clary could see:

_**Magnus, I'm at your house with Clary, Rae, and Max. Have you gotten the Lightwoods free yet? Write back as soon as you can, we're waiting.**_

_**Luke**_

It was short and simple, and Clary noticed how Luke traced the page, as if wanting to write more, but he tossed the pencil aside quickly and gestured Max over. Max glanced at the letter, but Luke had already picked it up and started to fold it carefully. Curious as Max, Clary watched as Luke folded the letter in a strange way, the corners in, the center crease, a trifold. She'd never seen such intricate paper folding except in origami. When Luke finished he was holding a small, almost cube like piece of paper, and he presented it to Max.

"Alright, Max, I want you to draw these runes on each side of the paper," he said, and then scribbled a splattering of runes down with pen on paper. Max gave each rune a long look, and then began to trace them as best he could. He'd never really been given much practice with rune work since he was so young, and he felt a strange urge to prove himself before Clary and the werewolf. When he finished, he showed the message to Luke.

"Well done, Max. I couldn't have done it better myself," he said, and then swept out of the room and into the sitting area where an empty fireplace was waiting. He checked the mantle furiously for matches, grumbling tom himself about a lack of them, when Rae appeared before him looking slightly amused.

"Allow me, Luke," she said, and flourished her hand in the direction of the fireplace. A small flame raced down her arm and jumped off her fingers where it caught the kindling there and sprung to life.

Luke gave her an appreciative look. "That's quite impressive," he said, and then called for Max. "Alright, Max, throw the message in the fire."

Begrudgingly, Max approached the fire and fingered the note he'd worked so hard to write. Smiling weakly up at Luke, he tossed it into the flames. They burned brighter for a moment, sparking with magic, and then died down. Max sighed, as if he really did miss the runes he'd made, and then faced Luke.

"So what now? How long do we have to wait before we get an answer?" Max's eyes glowed a little brighter.

"It will take a few minutes at least," Luke hedged. "It depends where Magnus is and if he'd not in the middle of a scrap."

Clary watched the exchange between Luke and Max with a faint desire to distract herself. Max seemed unusually serious for such a young child, the way he stalked around, keeping his gaze constantly turned on Luke, and speaking about battles and fighting as if he had lived a hundred years of war. She tried to imagine herself when she was Max's age, and she felt a small smirk on her lips. When she was nine, the most important thing in her life was _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ and different colors of paint. She would never have faced a werewolf with a calm, purposeful façade. He was like an adult, a toy sized adult.

She shook herself and picked up the glass of water Luke had gotten her, and she felt the urge to throw it across the room. She wanted to watch as the glass hit the wall and shattered like all her hopes and dreams. She could picture it, hear it, as the glass cracked and the water splattered all over. It would be so satisfying to see something else break for one in her life.

_Why did you leave, Jace? What did you think was going to happen when you ran after Valentine?_ Clary twisted the glass in her hands, thinking of the times she had twisted her hands in his hair. _You were so brave, so sure of yourself, and look where you are. Look what's happened._

"…fire!" Max cried, leaping toward the hearth. "Look, it's changing colors."

Clary started and watched as the fire grew and burned bright blue. Suddenly, a flame darted out of the pit and began to trace frantic words across the wall. Clary watched as the words scribbled out and then sizzled away. Some of it made sense, most of it didn't matter, it wasn't until she got to the last sentence that everything sank in into place.

Her eyes lingered on the blue lettering, glowing on the wall:

_**Valentine won. We're locked in the basement of the Institute. If you come, be careful; Valentine wants Clary**_

Clary pressed her lips together into a tight line. She heard Luke gasp and Max give a loud yep, but none of that matter. One moment she was reading the lines, the next her eyes darted to the glass of water on the table. Her hands wrapped around it, and before she really knew what her hand was doing, the glass went flying toward the wall where it shattered into hundreds of little glass shards. The fire lines sizzled as the water burst over it, leaving behind wisps of steam.


	9. Dealing with the Devil

Dealing with the Devil

Jace twisted around when he heard Isabelle's voice, and he saw her standing in the corner of the room, her face a mask of horror. When her gaze met his she cried his name, but Jace couldn't respond with his throat so raw. He leaned as far as he could off the table, but the chains that wrapped around his wrists and ankles constricted his movement, and he jerked back onto the stone slab. Above him, Valentine smirked and ran a hand over Jace's hair, stroking it in almost the same way as he might a pet dog. Jace shivered under his touch and tried to jerk out of his reach. Valentine laughed.

"I see you brought Isabelle," Valentine said casually to Jonathan, who gave him a smile in return. "You've come at just the right time too."

"Get out, Isabelle!" Jace groaned, arching his back in protest. "Just get out of here. Don't listen to him, whatever he says, don't listen."

"Jace," Valentine said calmly, giving him a patronizing look. "It is important that Isabelle be here, important she see exactly what is at stake. Don't frighten the poor girl away."

"Go to hell," Jace hissed, and then leaned back, keeping his gaze off Valentine.

Isabelle tried to rush forward, but Jonathan snatched her back, dragging her off her feet and holding her again him. She thrashed around his grasp, whipping her head back and forth and kicking her feet. Valentine watched her dispassionately and began to spin the stele in his hand, very much in the same way Jace liked to.

"What are you doing with him? He's your son!" Isabelle jerked harder against Jonathan than he expected and he stumbled back. "You monster!"

"She's rather feisty, isn't she?" Valentine asked. "Very passionate. That's good, Isabelle, very good. Passion like that, when put to a cause, will inspire people. That's what I need from you, Isabelle, to inspire people."

Isabelle squirmed a little more but her attention was quickly diverted to the rest of the room. She could see her brother through the bars of a cage, and her heart skipped a beat. She realized very quickly that all her friends were there, locked behind bars and watching her with wide eyes, and she went limp.

"What are you doing to them?" she murmured, her face blank with fear.

Valentine shrugged. "I need to keep them somewhere until you come to your decision."

"Me?" Isabelle rasped, and Jace jerked back to her.

"He's lying," Jace gagged. "He's going to kill us."

"Be quite, boy," Valentine said sharply. "Jace is delirious, Isabelle, hardly in a condition where you should listen to him. But, as you can see, I've kept them alive, unharmed, and waiting for you."

"What are you going to do to them?" she murmured, wishing more than ever that she had a weapon of some sort in her hands.

"I'm going to kill them," Valentine said at once, and lowered the stele over Jace's throat, "unless you agree to work for me."

"What kind of agreement is that?" she demanded. "I'll kill everyone you love unless you do what I say?"

"That's the option I'm giving you, Lightwood, and I suggest you take it. If not, it'll start now with Jace, and you can stay to watch. I don't like to use force with my shadowhunters, but I'm not left with many options."

Isabelle's eyes darted to Jace, who shook his head frantically, but Valentine swept his hand curtly across Jace's face, the resounding slap echoing in the room. While Jace weaved his head back and forth to regain some sort of sense, Isabelle had broken free of Jonathan's grasp and rushed to his side. Valentine held out an arm, the stele clearly pointed to Jace's throat. Frantic, Isabelle brushed her hands over his face.

"Jace," she said softly. "Jace open your eyes. Look at me."

"That won't do you as much good as you think," Valentine mused. "Jace is no shadowhunter, not anymore, and I don't think he ever was. I would put little faith in his ability to understand you."

"You raised him," ground out Isabelle. "He was your son for a while."

This seemed to annoy Valentine, who narrowed his eyes. "I kept him for only as long as I could bear. He was no son of mine."

"You traded him to the Edison Group," Isabelle snarled, and then Jace blinked and turned his face into her palm. "It's going to be okay, Jace. I promise, I'll make all this go away."

Jace's eyes widened and he shook his head, but Isabelle's eyes were set and hard, and he knew nothing he could say was going to help. Isabelle straightened up and stared across Jace's body at Valentine. He looked back at her with his face carefully blank, but his eyes glowing in anticipation of victory. Isabelle placed one hand lightly over Jace's heart.

"You can't kill my family or friends," she said firmly. "If any of them are harmed I'll never work for you. I'll make it my goal in life to see you destroyed."

"Such harsh words from one so young," Valentine murmured. "But very honorable, very passionate. You're a driven individual and I respect that, Isabelle." He raked his eyes over her. "I swear on the Angel that I won't kill your friends or family if you agree to serve me and my causes."

Jace was shaking vigorously on the table, but Isabelle wasn't paying him any attention. She thought that if she looked anywhere but at Valentine she might lose her nerve, so she kept her eyes on his. Behind her, Jonathan was smirking at Jace, trying not to laugh too loudly.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Isabelle said thickly.

"Nothing now, Isabelle," Valentine shrugged, running a hand carelessly over Jace's hair. "For the present, enjoy your freedom and your family. As I progress farther along in my plan you may be needed more."

Isabelle's fingers constricted on Jace, but she kept her gaze steady. "Will you let them go?"

A small smile curved Valentine's face. "That, I cannot do. It is in the best interests of myself and my companions not to have, say, a rabid werewolf running around. So no, I will not be releasing them, but you will be more than welcome to come see them."

"But you will keep them down here?" Isabelle hissed, glancing over the walls and cages. "Are you going to take care of them? Will they be fed-"

"I'm not going to kill them," said Valentine with little patience. "I have said this already, and that is all I will say on the matter. They will not die, but neither will they be freed to do as they please."

Jace groaned, "He's lying."

"Have I not told you once to be quiet?" Valentine asked, twisting his fingers in the boy's hair painfully. "I have sworn not to kill you thanks to your sweet step sister, and that is all you have to worry about now."

"You _not_ killing me?" he croaked. "I think I'll worry about what you might do to me because I'm _not _dead."

"Oh, Jace, you are so suspecting," laughed Valentine, but the smile never reached his eyes. Instead, he spun the knife about and laid it gently on Jace's inner arm. "Jonathan, please escort Isabelle to her living quarters."

"I want to stay with my brothers!" Isabelle cried in outrage when Jonathan took her arm. She saw the knife now, glinting rather dangerously. "What are you going to do with them? Put that knife away!"

Valentine simply turned the knife so the tip was facing Jace's arm. "I am not going to kill little Jace, I just want to understand him better. He's quite an anomaly, don't you think?"

"Leave him alone!" Isabelle snarled, and she swung her hand around to hit Jonathan. He caught her fist easily and bent it behind her back. Isabelle squirmed about again, trying to escape a grasp that was far too strong for her, but it was useless and Jonathan just laughed. "Why are you doing this? There's nothing wrong with Jace."

"Jace is unique and I am curious," Valentine said, and he pressed the tip of the blade into the tender skin in Jace's arm. Jace didn't betray any pain in his face, but Isabelle knew it had to have hurt. "He is like no other shadowhunter, and I know I am at least partially responsible for it. I want to know just what I have done."

"You didn't do anything," Isabelle said with a huff. "The Edison Group is responsible for what happened, you just paid them."

"I was the instigator in this, so I take responsibility," he sighed and sliced the blade upwards. Jace squirmed a little on the table but kept from crying out. "I am curious, to say the least."

"You're a monster," breathed Isabelle.

"Then you work for a monster," he replied evenly, though there was some amusement in his voice. "Does that mean that by association, you are a monster as well?"

"I would never hurt someone like you did," she said, wishing she had a knife.

"Liar," Valentine pronounced like a judge. "Jonathan, get her out of here."

Jonathan nodded and tugged her back toward the stairs. Her eyes met Jace's but they were blank with determination, and she didn't glean any hope from them. Lying on the table, Jace could hear Jonathan struggling with Isabelle all the way back up the stairs, and he loved her even more for it. The sound of her feet kicking the wall, and Jonathan breathing heavily with the strain of it all made him smile faintly.

"She's quite something, isn't she?" Valentine asked knowingly. "I'm impressed you managed to remain with their family for so long, considering what you are. The Lightwoods were always severe when it came to the blood of shadowhunters."

Jace pressed his lips together to cover the pain of the slice in his arm. "They thought I was as much a shadowhunter as you."

"They know better now," Valentine said stiffly, and he pressed down on Jace's arm, forcing the blood to dribble out. Jace flinched. "My, my, my this is interesting…"

Valentine stared hungrily at the blood that was pouring out of his arms, and then found a vial to fill it with. The blood was red as any other red, but Jace knew that Valentine had plans for the blood. There had to be something special about it, he could tell by the way Valentine eye's clung to it.

"What are you going to do now?" Jace rasped. "You swore to kill me, but not it seems you owe Isabelle my life. Do you still plan to kill me in front of Clary?"

"It does pose a conundrum, doesn't it?" Valentine mused. "I don't want a creature like you alive in my world, but I gave my word, so I must spare you." Valentine turned away and sloshed the blood around. "If I let you live, Jace, you will never be a shadowhunter again. I will keep you and Clary locked away forever, never allowed to see the world again. So, I suppose you must ask yourself, do you want to live like that?"

Jace closed his eyes, thinking of Clary. "Are you suggesting I kill myself?"

"It's your choice," Valentine shrugged. "If you think you can spend the rest of your life locked in a cell with only my daughter as your company, then I suppose you won't have to die."

"I'll outlive you," Jace hissed, and he turned to face Valentine. Their eyes met and Valentine narrowed his gaze. "You'll die, and I'll still have Clary, and we'll escape."

"Do you really think so?" Valentine's gaze was steady. "Do you think Jonathan will allow that to happen when he inherits my place? He will lead the Clave after me, and I would be remiss if he let you live at all. Jonathan doesn't like you all that much, Jace."

"No kidding?" he asked with a weak laugh.

"Perhaps he will allow you to continue on as I will, locked away with my daughter, but I don't think he will." Valentine crossed the room to a work table that was covered in strange instruments. "So, again, it comes back to you, Jace. Do you want to live the rest of your life in this cellar, never allowed to hold a stele again, never allowed to bear the runes of the nephilim? You would be no better than the rest of the animals I'll keep down here. Your…_friends_." The sneer in Valentine's voice gave Jace a very good idea of the look on Valentine's face.

"We're not animals," came a growl from the wall.

Jace glared at Derek, but Valentine seemed interested in the werewolf. He placed down the vial of Jace's blood and strolled over to the cage where Derek was sitting. He leaned in so that he and Derek's eyes were level. "You don't think you're an animal?"

"I'm sitting here talking to you now, aren't I?" Derek answered, using force to keep his voice even.

Valentine didn't miss the control he had to exert. "Yes, but when the moon rises, will you go mad and run wild in the night? Will you sprout fur and fangs and claws and maul anyone who draws too near?" His grey eyes flicked over Derek, who shuddered with suppressed rage. "Will you temperament get the better of you?"

"For you, Valentine, it might," answered Derek.

"Then you are an animal," reasoned Valentine. "You see, I am very angry with Jace, furious, you might even say. I am ashamed that Jace is what he is, and that he paraded around for the last seventeen years of his life pretending to be a shadowhunter. He had lied not just to his family, but to his himself. There would be no bigger pleasure for me than to cut him open, bit by bit, and then kill him when I've finished with him." Here, Valentine looked over his shoulder and smiled at Jace, who returned his smile with a frown. Valentine was disappointed to note that there was no fear in his gaze. "I am livid, a veritable madman with this knowledge, _but_ I have not killed him. I believe that this control is what separates me from you, from all animals. I can control myself, you, Derek, cannot."

"If you're right, why haven't I shifted and lunged at you?" challenged Derek. He inched forward, smiling like an angel. "Why am I calmly sitting here, having this intelligent conversation with you?"

"It's an effort for you, Derek, this I can see," said Valentine carelessly. "You must exert all the force you can, and even now, you are shaking. I think that given half a chance you will lose yourself."

"I think if you give me the chance I will," answered Derek, and then laughed.

A frown creased Valentine's face and he slashed the blade across the bar of the cage. "Laugh as you like, wolf, no one will hear you." He stormed back to his work table, grounding something down into powder and mixing it with the blood he'd taken.

Jace shot a look at Derek, who stared back at him blankly. He swallowed back a groan and tried to speak as softly as possible. "Don't provoke him."

Derek's face remained unchanged, but Jace saw his head list just a little, his ear turned toward Jace. Rolling his eyes, Derek smiled carelessly and leaned back on his hands. He tried to look unconcerned, but across from him was Chloe, and she watching him with wide eyes. When he met her gaze, Chloe scowled and gave her head a little shake.

"Stop it, Derek," she whispered, and then glanced quickly to where Valentine was working away. "He doesn't have to spare us."

As much as he wanted to seem indifferent to Chloe's words, he knew he couldn't. He'd promised her too many times that he wouldn't leave her, and that he'd try to protect her. If Valentine decided he wanted Derek dead, he'd be doing a poor job of defending Chloe. With a pronounced sigh, he nodded at Chloe and bowed his head. Chloe tried to smile, but she couldn't.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Chloe watched Derek relax back into the darkness and returned her focus to Valentine. She watched the way his back moved as he worked, and she wondered what had made the lines of his shoulder so straight and taken the curve out of his spine. He looked like a soldier, tirelessly toiling away over a spat of blood, and she shivered, reminded of the doctors from the Edison Group.

She ran over the exchanges between Valentine and Jace, trying to glean some information about their past. She knew Jace had been raised by Valentine, and that the past hadn't been as happy a childhood as it could have been, but she just didn't know what had made Jace's face so hard and his eyes to bright. Chloe suspected that something in Jace and Valentine's shared past might be key to escaping from Valentine, if not stopping his madness. She wondered just what secret was kept between them.

"Well, children, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you," Valentine pronounced after a few more minutes. "I have some duties to attend to, and none of them involve this place. Come, Jace, let me help you off the table."

Valentine was suddenly beside Jace, undoing the chains and pulling him up. Jace swayed as his head swam, but forced himself to stand up straight. He wasn't going to be weak before Valentine, as he walked him back to his cell. Valentine threw the cage door open and shoved Jace back in, with a groan, before standing and brushing the dirt off his suit. He looked down at Jace, enjoying the look of him through the bars.

"I'll be back soon," he said with a smile at his stepson. "We're not through, you and I."

"That's just what I wanted to hear," muttered Jace as he rolled onto his back and examined in his cut arm. "You gonna bring me a band aid?"

"Fix it yourself," Valentine snapped, and then he swept out of the room, the torches flickering around him.

There was a moment of silence and then a snarl from Derek. "We can't stay here."

"No kidding?" Tori said loudly. "I thought it might be nice to just stay down here a while. Very relaxing in the dark, gives you time to think."

"You're not helping," hissed Derek, but he didn't have the heart to put any real anger in it.

"Well, stating the obvious isn't going to get us anywhere, is it?" shot back Tori, but she didn't seem to have the heart either. Her eyes met Derek's, though, and she sighed and squirmed to get more comfortable. "So we have to find a way out of here, that much is obvious. I mean, we can't just sit here and wait for Valentine to kill us."

"He's not going to kill us," Jace said, trying to reasonable, but the sarcasm in his voice defeated it. "You heard him, he'll just lock us up down here and never let us out again. That way, no one will ever have to know that he lied and kept a few Downworlders alive."

"Try not to be too cheerful over there, Jace, it might go to your head," Simon said with a smirk, and even though they were all trapped in a nightmare, even though they were all fearing for their lives, they all laughed. It echoed around them and for one moment, the terror and anger that was crushing them down was lifted.

"I'll do my best, but in the meantime, do we have any way of getting out of here?" Jace asked once the laughter died down. "Is there anyone we can send a message to, Magnus?"

"I've seen to it." Magnus, who was bent over due to his height, was watching Jace with unchanging eyes. "Someone sent a message, and Isabelle provided the perfect distraction for Valentine so that I was able to answer it. Help may be coming."

Jace blinked once, but he didn't miss the shadow that passed over Magnus's eyes. "Who's coming?"

Magnus gave his head a little shake to keep the hair from his eyes, never letting his gaze slip. "Well, I received a message from Luke, and I let him in on the situation."

"Luke?" Jace's head darted up, narrowly missing another painful bump. "Luke sent a message to you?"

"Nothing too serious," Magnus replied casually. "He was just curious as to our whereabouts."

"You mean _Clary _was," Jace breathed, moving forward until he was pressing against the bars of his cell. "Clary told Luke we left, and now she knows Valentine caught us. Let me guess, you asked them to come help us?"

"Jace-"

"Be quiet, Alec!" he hissed back, not once turning away from Magnus. "You did, didn't you? You told them where we were, and who was holding us prisoner, and you think they're going to come rescue us. Or you hoped?" Jace was shaking.

"We can't stay down here, Jace," Magnus growled. "What good are we doing if we're locked in the basement? We need to warn the Clave."

"Clary can't come here!" Jace snarled. "Valentine wants her too much."

"She has to, Jace," Magnus snapped back. "Who else would come to help? Clary is the only shadowhunter out there who is capable of helping us fight. What would you have had me do? Lie and say we're coming home soon?"

"She'll come charging in here looking for me!"

"Well, good!" Magnus threw his hands in the air. "Maybe that way, something will get done about it. You know, you're so adamant about protecting the girl, keeping her from getting hurt, that you don't realize how strong she actually is. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, Clary can handle a fight? You're not the only one here with a gift, Jace!"

Jace narrowed his eyes in dislike. "I guess I'm the only one here with a brain though."

"Oh, stop it, both of you!" It was Chloe, and she sounded more tired than anything. "You're both acting like idiots. Jace, Magnus had no other choice but to tell Luke what had happened, and you know it. I'm sure Luke loves Clary as much as you, so he's not just going to let he go barging in. Clary is safe no matter where she goes because she has Luke, and a girl whose half demon. You just need to calm down."

Jace felt a tremor rake his body. "I don't want her hurt."

"What makes you think she's going to get hurt?" Chloe looked pointedly at his arm. "And if she does, we can fix her up. I bet Tori could heal your arm if you just stick it out of the cage."

Jace looked skeptical. "Can't say I believe that."

"Oh, just give me your arm," muttered Tori.

Jace managed to wriggle his arm out of the cage and before Tori, who looked it over once and pursed her lips in thought. She murmured a few unintelligible words and Jace felt his arm glow with warmth. When he looked at his arm, the wound was gone, leaving nothing by a flat sheet of skin. He rubbed it once and then cleared his throat.

"Thanks, Tori."

"Any time, sweetheart," she replied with a fake smile.

"See," Chloe said faint smile. "All we need to do is slow down and think. I bet that's what Clary and Luke and Rae are doing right now. I bet anything they already have a great plan of how they're going to rescue us. It'll be fine."


	10. The Written Word

_Hey, sorry this took so long to come out. I was taking finals for the last two weeks and couldn't really afford to write. Anyway, I should be back on track now_

The Written Word

Luke watched Clary warily, completely unconcerned with the water dribbling down the wall and the glass shards scattered like ice across the ground. He saw the way her hands were clamped into fists, her skin turning white and her arms shaking with some pent up emotion. He rose carefully from the place he was sitting and approached her. Luke had seen wolves like this before, so calm on the outside but raging on the inside. It was like the calm before a storm, or the blue ice, so deceiving before it cracked beneath your feet. Clary wasn't calm, she wasn't even okay; she looked ready to lunge forward and scratch someone's eyes out.

"Clary," Luke said carefully, and he raised his hands up in defense. "Clary, be careful around the glass. Your mother would never forgive me if you cut yourself on my watch." Clary turned her eyes on the glass on the floor and stared at it. She seemed to be trying to communicate with the glass, searching it for an answer. When she returned to Luke, her eyes were sparkling like the glass, and they were just as hard. "Here, come away from the mess and I'll clean it up."

"Clean it?" Clary gave him a quizzical look. "Why bother?"

Luke held his hands out to her. "Well, it's broken glass. Someone could hurt themselves, and it's my job to take care of you. In fact, if you could go to the kitchen and get me a broom-"

"I'm not staying here, Luke, so I don't see the point."

Clary moved suddenly, stalking forward to the stairs and knocking Luke's hand out of the way. Her shoulders were set in a hard line and her back was as straight as a board. Luke sighed, following her. "Clary, come back, please."

Clary marched up the stairs, trying to fight back tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. Behind her, Luke was speaking, but she spoke over him. "I'm not leaving Jace with Valentine and that son of his. He wouldn't leave me behind, so neither will I. I'm going to find Valentine, rescue Jace, the Lightwoods, and my friends, and then we're coming back here."

"Clary," Luke growled. "It's not so easy. You can't just walk up to your father and demand he give you what you want. Valentine is expecting you to come find Jace, he wants something with you."

"Well, good, because I want something with him, and when I find him, he's going to answer to me." Clary threw open the door to her room, and, glancing around, began to dig through her clothes. "I'm tired of running; first it was the Edison Group, and now it's my father. Well, I'm through with it." Clary found a few pairs of jeans and shirts, and she shoved them in a bag. "This has to end."

Luke watched her with a frown on his face. "This isn't going to work, Clary. You have to plan something, you have to be prepared for your father."

"And quite calling him that!" Clary snapped, turning on Luke with a snarl. "He's Valentine, _Valentine_. He's not my father, he didn't raise me, he didn't give me anything, not even a name! You should be ashamed of saying that."

"Clary, please-"

"No, Luke," Clary said coldly. "This is for Jace, and I would do anything for him."

"I understand what you mean, Clary, but this isn't how to do it." Luke moved forward and managed to get a hold of Clary's arm. "Listen to me, Clary!"

Luke gave her a shake, and Clary spun about so fast she almost broke his grasp. "If you're not going to help me let me go."

"I want to help you, Clary, but not this way." Luke gave her a severe look, but Clary forced herself to stare into his eyes without blinking. "You want to rescue Jace, I understand, and I'm going to help you. But I'm only going to help you if you think about this a different way. I won't let you get yourself hurt."

Clary was silent for a long time, staring at Luke, measuring the grip of his hand on her arm, and the determination of his gaze. She blinked quickly, her eyes darting away, and Luke saw the tears running over in her eyes. "What else can I do?"

"You can rescue Jace, but you're just going to have to go about it a different way. He won't want you to get yourself hurt by going after him; you know Jace loves you." Luke saw Clary shaking and he moved closer, gathering her up in his arms. "You want to prove you're a shadowhunter, you want to prove yourself to Jace, you want to prove that you can take care of yourself; but you won't accomplish any of this by running headlong into the fray of battle. Show your sense, show your planning, show that you belong here."

Clary tucked herself against Luke and sobbed softly. "I want Jace back, Luke; I want to know he's safe. Valentine has him and I don't know what he's doing to him. I'm scared that I won't get to Jace in time, or that when I find him he'll be different. I just want to know he's safe."

Luke rubbed her back. "You know Valentine won't kill him, Clary. Jace is too valuable alive for Valentine to use, but that doesn't mean we should waste time. We should regroup and make a plan tonight, and tomorrow, head for New York."

"That's what I was going to do," Clary murmured, looking up at Luke with a small frown. "That's why I was packing."

"You were just going to rush after Jace," Luke said with a sad laugh. "That's brave, but foolish. Valentine will be expecting you to go after him, so you're just going to have to surprise him."

"He'll be expecting me," Clary whispered. "You said it yourself, he'll be expecting me. How can I outsmart Valentine? How can fight him?"

"Well," Luke mused, sitting down on her bed and looking out the window. "Valentine is going to underestimate you, Clary, because he doesn't believe anyone who is less than a shadowhunter can fight him."

"I _am_ a shadowhunter," Clary said firmly.

"You are, Clary," Luke said quickly. "But not the kind Valentine considers a threat. You have an amazing gift with runes, a gift you can use to fight Valentine, and he doesn't know it. When Valentine thinks of shadowhunters, he only thinks of trained warriors like Jace, and his son, Jonathan, not girls with no training. You're going to be a surprise just with your talents."

"Do you think we can rescue them?" Clary asked shrewdly, leveling Luke with a searching look. "Do you think we have the ability to fight him?"

"I think I'm going to help you no matter what," Luke said thoughtfully, and when Clary's face broke into a small smile, Luke waved her over. "Clary, I'm always going to be here to help you, and I want to stop Valentine as much as you."

Clary joined Luke on the bed. "I just want to stop running, Luke. I'm so tired of running."

"It will end, Clary," Luke promised, draping his arm over her shoulders and squeezing her. "Valentine can't hunt you forever; we'll make sure of it."

Clary closed her eyes a moment. "What are we going to do? Is there a plan?"

"First, we have to go back to New York, and figure out what's protecting the Institute. Valentine will have wards and demons up around the place, so we're going to have to be prepared to fight them off."

Clary blanched. "We can't, Luke. I'm not trained to fight, and you're a werewolf. How can we get past them?"

Luke was about to answer when the door swung open, and leaning against the frame was Rae. She had her hip cocked and her arms crossed, and the look of determination of her face was unique. "You've got a demon problem?"

"Rae, you don't need to do this," Luke said at once. "This isn't your battle, this isn't your life; you don't owe us anything."

Rae frowned. "Isabelle and Alec saved my life, I owe them that much."

"This is a war, Rae," Clary murmured, giving her a hard look. She'd heard rumors about Rae, about her betrayal and her escape, and didn't know if the girl could be trusted in such a dangerous situation "You don't need to help us fight, not when you could get hurt or killed. Valentine is no one to trifle with, no one to get involved with unless you have to."

"They _saved my life_," Rae said slowly, looking at Clary like she was an idiot. "I'm not going to let them be killed by Valentine just because he's got some demons on his side. I'm half demon myself, so what should I be worried about?"

"It's not the same-"

"I hate owing people," Rae said loudly. "I hate having to know that someone helped me get where I am. I like being self-reliant, and the only way I can see myself getting back to that is if I come with you."

"This isn't how you get even, Rae," Luke sighed. "Valentine is not going to stop you and let you go, or stop you and lock you up. He'll kill you if he gets his hands on you. This is something we have to do because this is _our _world. This is our responsibility, not yours."

"Not mine?" Rae looked confused, and then her eyes narrowed. "How is it not my responsibility, but it's Clary's? It's not like she knows what's going on any more than I do. It's not like Clary is any better a fighter than I am."

"He has Jace, I don't have a choice-"

"Well he's got my friends, so how do I have a choice?" Rae demanded, and then threw her hands in the air. "Don't you dare think that just because they don't trust me I don't care about them. I made a mistake, okay? But I'm trying to fix it, I'm trying to make it better. Or am I not allowed to get better? Am I not allowed to be trusted?"

"That's not what I mean," Clary ground out. "My father is a monster, he's dangerous and cruel and vicious. He kills people without a thought, and he won't think twice about hurting you."

"I'm tired of being scared," Rae said passionately. "I'm as tired of it as you are, and I'm just as willing to fight as you are. Take me with you, let me help. Think what I can do; I'm half demon, and I'm just as capable of fighting them as you are. I'll probably be better."

"I don't want you getting hurt," Clary whispered finally. "Too many people have been hurt lately because of me and my own. I don't want any more lives on my head."

"This is my choice," Rae said firmly. "I'm not going to let my friends die locked in a cell; I'm going to rescue them. Then they'll know, they'll know I was always there to help them…" Rae's voice warbled off, and Clary realized that Rae wasn't doing this because it was the right thing. She wanted to repay them, convince them that she was their friend. This was about proving herself.

"You don't have to do this," Clary said again, but she knew Rae was going to come along anyway. Her determined stare was saying as much.

"No, I don't, but I'm going to. We all have to do things we don't want to sometimes, but they have to get done."

Luke nodded slowly. "That's very noble of you, Rae, and very brave. If you're sure you'd like to come with us, we'll let you. It could be useful to have a half-demon on our side."

Rae's face brightened at once and she raised her hand in demonstration. Her palm exploded in flames and she threw a ball of fire into the air. It burst, small flames raining harmlessly down to the floor. "I've been practicing."

"That's impressive," agreed Luke. "If the three of us go-"

"What about me?" demanded a small voice from behind Rae. Max pushed past the girl and stomped into the room with a serious face. "You can't just leave me here; I'm coming with you."

"Max, no, you're too young," Clary said at once, but he crossed his arms and glared. "You're sister would never forgive me if I brought you along. This is too dangerous and you're just a child."

"It's my family," he said simply.

"I can't let you do this, Max," said Luke suddenly. "We'll take you along, but you're going to have to stay with my pack. I am not going to let a child come with me when I go to fight Valentine."

Max slammed a foot down. "You can't do this! My sister and brother are being held captive by Valentine and you think I'll just sit and watch you rescue them? I'm coming, and you can't stop me."

Luke smiled faintly. "I'm going to have to stop you, and I will. I know you want to be a part of this. I know you feel like you can do anything, but you have no training-"

"Neither does Clary!"

"She has other skills," shot Rae, and she caught the boy's eye. "You don't really know what will happen, and you have no idea how much your siblings love you. They would never forgive us if we took you along. You need to stay safe."

"I'm not staying with a bunch of wolves." Max shot Luke a look, daring him to say otherwise.

"What will you do if we take you along?" Luke asked with a raised eyebrow. "What can you do to help us fight?"

Max seemed at a loss for a minute. "I can sneak around, I can spy on Valentine. He won't expect me, he won't even be threatened by me. I'm perfect to send in and find our family."

"Valentine suspects everyone," Luke replied. "He'll know who you are, and he'll use you to get to your family. Do you want to be the reason bad things happen to Alec or Isabelle, or even Jace?"

Max's face fell a little, and he looked nervously to Clary, who was watching him carefully. "But he wouldn't find me. Clary could invent a rune to make me invisible, even to another shadowhunter!"

Luke shook his head, but Clary felt her heart leap at the idea. She could, she just knew she could make an invisibility rune. If she could make herself unseen, there would be no reason to fight, no risk in rescuing the others. Clary's fingers started to itch with a need for a stele.

"But she could!" Max protested angrily, shooting Clary a pleading look. "You could, couldn't you? I've seen you make those runes on the paper, and it's the same thing. This time, you're just hiding people, not pictures."

"Max, Clary's powers aren't like that-"

"Luke, he might be right," Clary said quickly. She stood up and dug around the bed until she found the stele. Her mind with racing. "I could probably design a rune to hide us. It would be so easy to sneak into the Institute and get them all out."

Luke fixed Clary with a searching look. "Even if you can hide us, I'm not letting Max come along. He'll stay with my pack and be safe."

"No," Max said at once. "I'm coming. It was my idea to make the rune, it was my idea!"

"I know that, Max, but I just can't take you along. You're too young." Luke stood suddenly, and his height seemed to silence Max for a minute. He glanced at Clary pleadingly, but when she gave him nothing but a sad smile, he looked down. "You're just a child, Max, and I'm responsible for you."

Max stomped his foot but he'd given up. He turned about and stormed for the door, throwing a very frustrated, "Fine!" over his shoulder.

Clary and Luke watched him go and Rae stared at the floor. After a moment, she said, "That boy needs to get his priorities in order."

"No, Rae," said Clary. "He's a shadowhunter, it's just in his nature."

"But he's right," came Luke's voice softly. "You can make the rune, Clary. Draw on a piece of paper first, and then we'll see if it works."

"You think I can?" Clary asked, feeling like a balloon were inflating in her. "You think I can make the rune work?"

Luke handed Clary a piece of paper. "I have to think you can do it. If you can't make us that rune, I don't know how we'll get in."

* * *

><p>Derek stared through the bars of his cage and caught Chloe's eye. She gave him a weak half smile in return and moved closer to the bars. "Are you alright?" Derek asked softly.<p>

"Well," Chloe said with a frown. "It'd be nice if I wasn't locked in this cage."

With a grunt, Derek shifted around made sure the light of the flickering torches caught his face. When he smiled bravely, Chloe could see him. She felt just a little better knowing that Derek was that close, but the bars between her and him, not to mention the sense of terror and hate that lingered in the cell, was choking her. Even though they might have been monsters, the Edison Group had let her and Derek be together.

"Isabelle must be working something out," Derek said thoughtfully. "She'll find a way to give us a little time out of here."

"Fat chance," snorted Jace below Derek. "I know Valentine, and if he says we're staying in these cages, then we're not coming out. Valentine will keep us locked behind bars until the day we die."

"Ray of sunshine you are," Simon said, and Jace could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad we've got you around to keep up morale."

"I'm just saying," Jace ground out. "I know Valentine, and we've got a long time cramped up in these cages before us."

"Someone's coming to rescue us," said Tori defiantly. "You know, Jace, that Clary isn't going to let you go."

"Tori is right," Alec said gruffly. "Clary went after you once, she'll some after you again. This time, it's her turn to rescue us."

"Well, maybe we shouldn't rely on that alone to get us out of here," Jace replied, rolling away from the rest of the children. Thinking of Clary hurt him too much. "Maybe we should make plans to get out ourselves."

"You know that's not going to happen," said a cold voice. "You know, Jace, that we're keeping you here. You and all you're freak friends."

Jace jerked around and saw Jonathan standing in the stairwell. He was smirking horribly and spinning a stele in his hand. When Jace's eye landed on him, Jonathan moved into the light. He strolled around the room, dragging his stele over the bars of the cages.

"What do you want, Jonathan?" asked Alec before Jace said something he'd regret.

"I want to kill you, actually, but I don't think that's possible. Not with your sweet sister playing our game. Unfortunately, I can only come and tease you."

Derek growled like a wolf. "Get out of here."

"Are you going to make me wolf boy?" Jonathan challenged, coming eyelevel with Derek. "You going to fight me?"

"Let me out, and I will," hissed Derek while Chloe shook her head frantically.

Jonathan smiled. "I'd love to, but I'm not here for you. I'm here for my dear, little brother. I want to let him know that tomorrow he'll be sending a letter to Clary, asking her to come rescue him." Jonathan knelt down before him and reached through the bar to grab a hank of Jace's hair. "You're going to be quite the poet, I think. Something desperate and terrifying, that should bring little Clary running."

Jace snarled. "Never."

Jonathan laughed. "If you say no I'll kill one of your stupid friends." He looked about. "I'll start with the necromancer and work my way through her pathetic friends. You want to watch them die?"

Jace wriggled around but Jonathan held on tight. He forced himself to meet Jonathan's eyes, and then turned his gaze slowly on Chloe, who was staring at him from her cage. She looked terrified, and Jace knew then that he wasn't going to let her die. She wasn't just a necromancer anymore; she was his friend, and his family. He would do what he had to to defend her, just like she would do for him.

He swallowed loudly. "No, I'll do what you want."


	11. Father and Son

Father and Son

Valentine sat in the library, behind Hodge's mahogany desk, turning a pen slowly in his fingers. His eyes never left the set of doors on the opposite wall, staring at them as if his grey gaze might penetrate the wood and see the figures on the other side. There was power in his stare that would make greater men quell, and Valentine knew it. He valued the strength of his gaze, the power it gave him over others; he thought it helped to make him a good leader.

Beyond the library, Valentine heard a grunt and a snort of laughter, and he leaned back in his chair. Very carefully, he placed the pen down on the desk, and unscrewed the back of it, emptying out what little black ink was left. He reached under the desk and into one of the drawers, and removed a piece of parchment. As the doors opened, Valentine turned his attention to smoothing out the paper.

Jonathan came forward, dragging Jace by the back of his torn shirt. Jace struggled fruitlessly against the older boy, trying to break his grip in any way he could. He twisted, kicked, hit and squirmed, but nothing seemed to be strong enough to stop Jonathan. The older boy smirked as he drew Jace forward, enjoying his helplessness more than anyone should have. When he reached his father's desk he threw Jace down to the floor and watched as Jace tried to gather the rags of his shirt and pride.

Valentine pressed his hands over the parchment one last time before looking up with a blank face. He first spotted Jonathan and tipped his head in thanks, and looked around the library, as if expecting Jace to be standing right beside his son. He cleared his throat and smiled faintly, though it never reached his eyes.

"I thought you were going to bring Jace, Jonathan?" Valentine asked, trying to keep the smile from his voice. "Where has the boy got to now?"

Jace, crouched on the floor, flared at being called boy. "Where do you think?" Jace spat, struggling up to his feet so he could glare at Valentine.

Valentine offered him a surprised look. "I didn't see you there, Jace. May I suggest you _not_ make a point of greeting me by kneeling, though I must admit, I am honored. You were my son once, you need not be my slave now."

A flush worked into Jace's sallow cheeks. "I wasn't kneeling," he hissed, but refused to meet Valentine's eyes. "What do you want with me, Valentine?"

Valentine raised one eyebrow and flicked his gaze over Jace. He was assessing the boy, wondering just how far he could push him before he fought back. He had raised Jace himself, had trained him to be the best shadowhunter he could be, but did that mean he would be too hard to break?

"I want my daughter," Valentine answered thoughtfully. "You have the ability to get me what I want, Jace."

Jace kept his gaze anywhere but on Valentine; he didn't think he could face the man without feeling that horrible urge to lunge at him. "I don't see how, since you see fit to keep me locked in cage in the basement."

"You're going to beg my daughter for help," said Valentine evenly. "You're going to write to her, pleading with her that she come and rescue you. You'll tell her how much pain you're in, how terrified you are to be here, how much you love her."

A muscle worked in Jace's jaw, and Jonathan saw it. "Something to say, Jace?"

Licking his lips, Jace bit down hard on his teeth. "I'm not going to beg Clary to come here if you're just going to hurt her. I won't let you use me to hurt Clary."

"You're going to do as you're told, Jace," said Valentine sharply. He watched Jace draw his breath deeply, trying to decide if it would be necessary to use force on the boy. Jace seemed shaken, a little weak, but he certainly wasn't going to fall apart on the spot. "I don't want to have to hurt you, Jace, but you're giving me very little choice."

Jace eyed Valentine closely. "I've heard that before."

"Yes, you have, and you know what comes after I say it." Valentine rose from his seat and went to the hearth behind him. He stood and watched the flames dance with deep interest. "I would like for this to be a simple process, one where you do as I ask, and my daughter comes here. I would like for you to be an obedient boy and not force my hand. I would _like _these things to happen, Jace."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not in the business of making what you would like happen. Actually, I'm almost positive my job is to make your life harder, and if it involves Clary, I'm going to do anything in my power to make your life miserable."

Valentine didn't move an inch, but his voice rose aggressively. "Miserable? Oh, Jace, you don't know what miserable is."

"I don't?" Jace snarled. "Well if I don't, then I certainly have a good idea. You traded me to the Edison Group before I was even born. You promised them a boy if they'd give you information, so you gave them me! Not your son, though," Jace added bitterly.

This struck Valentine, and he smirked. Jace was young, too young, too untrained, to hide his feelings. "Is that what you're so angry about?"

"I don't like being used," Jace hissed.

"Not that," Valentine shot back, feeling his advantage over Jace. "That you're not my son? You feel betrayed, don't you, Jace?"

Jace paled a little, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Jonathan smile broadly. "No, I don't, but you lied-"

"You do!" Valentine said loudly, and Jonathan sniggered. "You're angry that I'm not your father. You wanted me to be your father, and now, that the truth has come out, you feel betrayed."

"I want to know who my parents are!" Jace cried, and then, realizing what he'd revealed about himself, fell into shocked silence.

Now, Valentine turned around, and he raked his gaze of Jace. The boy's face was blank, or thoughtfully angry, but his eyes were glowing with hate and longing. Jace had given himself away, that much Valentine knew now. He smiled calmly, and Jace quelled, knowing that he had said too much, he had given Valentine something he shouldn't have. "I can tell you who they are, Jace, if you'd like."

Jace turned away, forcing himself to think of Clary. He saw her face in his mind's eye, he saw her eyes and her smile, and it was enough for the moment. "No, not for the price you want. I won't give you Clary for two names."

"Are you so sure?" Valentine moved forward, a manic light in his eyes. "You don't want to know who your mother was? You don't want to know if she loved you when you were still in the womb? If she sung to you when you were a baby? And what of your real father? Aren't you even curious to know what he's like? Don't you want to know if you're like him? If he's proud of you?"

"Stop it," Jace breathed.

"Not that a father could love a creature like you," Valentine said over Jace. "But don't you want to know what he's like?"

"Stop it." Jace was speaking loud enough for Valentine to hear him. "Stop it."

"He's your father, Jace, he's the man you take after. Don't you want to know if you look like him? If you two think the same? Father like son, as they say…"

"I said, stop it!" Jace spat, and he moved forward to attack. Jonathan moved faster, wrestling Jace back so he was forced to face Valentine. "Stop talking about my father, you monster, you liar, you traitor!"

Valentine laughed. "You're pathetic, Jace, and clearly, not my son. I would have raised a better boy than this, a man should stand before me, not some weak animal. But should I have expected any better from a boy with such a…peculiarity?"

Jace went limp in Jonathan's arms at the reminder of what he was. "You made me into this, Valentine; you allowed the Edison Group to change me."

"And now I'm taking care of my mistake," said Valentine curtly. "I can't kill you, but I can keep you locked away forever until you die. The world need never know of you or your kind."

"I'm still a shadowhunter!" Jace protested. "You raised me, trained me, taught me everything you know. How can you deny that I am at least that?"

"No shadowhunter should be what you are," Valentine answered quietly, looking over Jace and his shaking form. He seemed to be bursting with anger, like some type of animal, and it made Valentine wonder just how extreme the effects of the changes worked in Jace were. "You're too powerful and too well trained to live in the normal world. You're dangerous, Jace, and you know it."

"You made me-"

"I know, and that was a mistake," Valentine cut in, and for once, Jace thought he saw something like pity burning in his eyes. "I need to fix the mistakes I made, and there's only one way to take care of this."

"Are you going to kill me?" Jace said shortly.

"I just said I wasn't," replied Valentine, and the pity was gone. "But there's only one option left, and I'm going to go through with it."

The finality in his voice alerted Jace to danger, and he concentrated on trying to break free of Jonathan's grasp. "I'm not going to help you ruin Clary's life," he said as he searched for an escape.

"You're going to do what you're told, no matter what I say," Valentine said, and he drew forward toward Jace, anticipating his struggle. "I don't want to hurt you, but I assume I'm going to by the way your acting."

Jace eyed Valentine. "I won't help you hurt Clary. I love her."

"I warned you once that love made you weak, and now you see what I mean. If you had obeyed me, if you had listened to me, you wouldn't be here now." Valentine smirked slightly. "Well you'd be here, since I can't change what you are, but you might not be feeling this miserable about yourself."

With a quick jerk, Jace broke Jonathan's grasp and struggled to escape. He hit the floor and scrambled for Valentine's desk and any weapon that might be hidden there. If he could just get his hands on a blade, he could escape, he knew he could. He could run and find Clary. That's all he wanted was Clary.

"Jace!" Valentine bellowed as Jace frantically searched the desk. When his hand fell on a dagger stored in the desk, Valentine flared. "Don't you dare, Jace."

Jonathan lunged forward and missed Jace by a few inches. He was throwing punches as quickly as he could and Jace was dodging as fast as he could. Valentine stalked around the two fighting over the desk and waited for a moment to catch Jace. He wasn't going to let some animal outwit him. When Jace lunged with the dagger at Jonathan, Valentine struck him as hard as he could on his stretched arm.

The sound of Jace's arm breaking was what alerted Jace to it, but the pain followed a split second after. He screamed and dropped the blade as pain laced up his arm. He clutched it tightly to him, trying to stem the pain and find the dagger with his right hand. His fingers closed around the hilt just as Jonathan caught him by his hair. He yanked hard and Jace was pulled over the desk so his back was exposed to Valentine.

Valentine took his time as he approached Jace and plucked the dagger off the table. He examined the hilt, the edge of the blade, the tip, and then spun it about quickly to place it at the exposed back of Jace's neck. Jace felt the sharp point touch the base of his spine, and then shivered. Jonathan squeezed Jace's wrists tighter, giving his now broken arm a twist.

"That was a rather imprudent choice," Valentine said calmly, watching Jonathan twist Jace's wrist. "I had thought you were a little wiser, a little more thoughtful, than that. You see, Jace, you reveal to me now just how uncontrollable you are, how dangerous. No properly trained shadowhunter would have acted to irrationally. A shadowhunter is always in control of their emotions and never acts without thought. You are no better than an animal, throwing yourself so heedlessly into battle, so foolishly. I didn't raise a boy like that."

"You barely raised me at all," Jace spat back, trying not to gasp at the pain radiating from his arm. "You threw me to the dogs."

"It's where you belong," said Jonathan loudly, but Valentine held up his hand to silence him.

"I gave you what I could, Jace, but even that wasn't enough to save you from the monster inside. I've heard there were many of you, children altered, child monsters. I thought I was being lied to, you see; there was no way a person could make a Downworlder even more dangerous. But then I saw your friends, the ones locked in the basement. The werewolf boy, the warlock, the witch, the necromancer. What do they do, Jace? Just how powerful are those children? How dangerous?"

"We're not dangerous!" Jace snarled, but the blade at his spine kept him from moving.

"You betray yourself," said Valentine carelessly. "You all need to be locked up, and that's what I'm going to, but I need Clary." Valentine flicked the knife ever so slightly that he took off a lock of Jace's hair. "You're going to get her for me."

"You're just going to hurt her," Jace gasped.

"If you refuse me, I'm going to hurt your little friends. I'll start with the Lightwood boy, the one you love so much. Max, that's his name, isn't it?" Valentine looked to Jonathan, who smirked and gave Jace a little jerk; Jace's eyes grew wider. "Would you like to see that little boy with an ear missing? I could only imagine how horrible it will be for you when you have to explain to little Max why he has to die, because I'll make you do it. The last words he'll ever hear are you telling him why he has to die. Would you like that?"

"Don't hurt him," Jace rasped, thoughts racing through his mind. He had to find a way out of this; there had to be a way to protect both Clary and Max from Valentine, but he just couldn't find it. His eyes darted up, and he wished for a moment that he believed in god. "Leave Max out of this."

"How can I?" Valentine asked, smiling at his son now. "He is too involved in this. He is your brother, isn't he, Jace? Just being related to you is enough to end his life."

"Leave him alone!" Jace ordered. "Just leave the boy alone. Killing a young boy won't win you any support from shadowhunters. You want obedience from the Clave, stop trying to kill the innocents."

"Ah, but is he innocent?" Valentine asked softly. "He associates with you, he is a friend of monsters, and you think he deserves to live? I will destroy anyone who tries to defend the monsters of this world."

"You're going to let me live, aren't you?" Jace challenged.

"Not really," mused Valentine, reaching around Jace and finding the piece of parchment he had been looking over. "You see, you live, but no one knows you live. You may eat, drink breathe, think, but what does it matter if no one knows you do it? Your names will be forgotten, your deeds dishonored, and your very memory erased. You will be a ghost, locked in the dark of this basement. I'll never let you see the light of day again."

"You're still as bad as Max," breathed Jace, and Jonathan gave his broken arm a sharp jerk, sharp enough to make Jace scream.

Valentine paused and studied Jace. "That may be possible, and I will have to consider it after, but that's beyond the point. You need to do as you're told, or I'll kill the little boy, and you can have it on your conscious for the rest of your life."

Jace wanted so much to tell Valentine to forget it, but he knew Max's life was on the line. It was Max, a young boy, an innocent in this war, and his little brother. He'd been Max's hero since Max could speak, and he'd been his defender and friend since Max could fight, and he knew he couldn't let Valentine kill him. But in the back of his mind was Clary, and she needed as much defense as Max. Maybe even more. If he brought Clary here, Valentine was sure to take her in hand, and Jace could still remember the childhood he'd had. He remembered the fear he'd lived in, the pain, and the hopelessness, and didn't think he could bear the idea of Clary like that. Just the thought of Clary being hurt was too much for him to bear.

"Don't kill Max," Jace said, softly this time, his eyes down. "Please, he's just boy; you don't need to hurt him."

"Will you do as I say then?" Valentine pressed, sliding the paper to Jace.

Jace turned his face to the parchment. "I can't hurt Clary."

"Then Max will die."

With a frustrated groan, Jace shook himself, still in Jonathan's grip. "Please, Valentine, don't do this. You'll hurt Clary if she comes, and I won't let you hurt her."

"You don't have that choice, Jace. It's either a little boy dies, or Clarissa gets hurt. Make your decision." Valentine lifted the pen and held it up to the light, smiling to himself as he examined the pen. "I think I know what your answer will be."

Jace groaned once more, racing through every option he could think of, but knowing there was only one solution. "Are you going to hurt her?"

Valentine's face softened ironically; there was no real pity in his face. "If she forces my hand I will."

Jace scowled and gave his arm a shake. "I'll do what you want."

"Let him up," Valentine said at once. "Jonathan, let go of the boy." Regretfully, Jonathan threw Jace's arms out and turned away from his father. "Here, Jace, it's going to be very simple, barely an effort. Clarissa will forgive you, I'm sure."

Rubbing his broken arm, Jace stood up and faced Valentine. "What am I writing?"

"A love letter, I suppose," Valentine said. "Just write to her and let her know you need her. Be desperate and frightened, tell her that if she loves you, she'll come for you. But first," Valentine said, and he took Jace's good arm and held it up. "First, you need ink."

"Black is fine," Jace said evenly, watching Valentine trace the veins on his arms.

"No, I can think of better," muttered Valentine, and he placed the dagger on his arm. "This needs to be a little distressed, I think." He sliced Jace's arm so fast he barely had time to react. Jace watched as his vein split open and blood trickled out. Valentine placed the tip of the pen against Jace's skin and filled it with his blood. "The red will be very _eye-catching_."

Jace just watched, his face blank of emotion, and when he took the pen, his fingers shook. "You want me to write in blood?"

"I think that should be obvious," Valentine returned with a grim smile. "I'm going to read this after, so make sure it's good."

Carefully, Jace sat down and he was trying to stop the pen from shaking. He looked over the parchment and ran one hand over it. He knew that he was betraying Clary, he knew he was going to get her hurt, going to trap her with him, but he just couldn't let Max die. Aware of Valentine behind him, Jace placed the tip of the pen to the parchment and stared at it. When Valentine's hand landed on his shoulder, Jace jumped and sighed.

"She'll forgive you, Jace, Clarissa loves you enough for that," he promised.

But all Jace could think of as he began to write was Clary's last words to him. She wouldn't be waiting for him now.


	12. Waiting at the Gates

Waiting at the Gates

Luke had to leave in the end, but only to go get the truck from the parking lot he'd parked it in the next town over. He had stayed with Clary for as long as he could, telling her over and over again that it would be fine, and that he was going to come back, and that tomorrow they would leave and find the others. Clary had asked him to stay with her for as long as he could, but they needed the truck to get back to the city. As he left the room, Clary watched him go with a broken smile and Rae joined her on the bed.

"You know, everything is going to be fine," Rae said softly. "With your rune powers and my skills with demons, who can stop us? We'll sneak into the Institute and break our friends out. Don't worry about Jace, I'm sure he's fine."

Clary swallowed down a rush of tears. "I'm not sure that's true. Valentine is a monster and I know he's going to hurt Jace. He hates what we are, and he won't show even his own son mercy."

"They've only been gone a few days, right, and we know Valentine would have let you know if he'd done something to Jace," reasoned Rae gently. "Plus, we know he wants us, so he'll keep Jace alive until you come."

Clary frowned over at Rae. "That's not comforting."

"He's alive, isn't he?" demanded Rae, and when she saw the tears in Clary's eyes, she softened. "Don't panic too much over this. What's a few bruises? A few cuts? Anyway, Luke said he'd help you, and he's seems pretty resourceful, plus you've got me too. And Valentine doesn't ever know about me. He doesn't know what I can do, so he won't know how to fight it. We're better off than you know."

"It's just that I _warned _him!" Clary cried in anguish. "I begged him not to go running off and he did. He ignored me because he wanted revenge and glory, and look where it got him."

"He wanted to protect his family, Clary. Could you blame him?" Rae thought of her mother, the poor woman who had gone a little mad, the woman who had needed desperate protection. Yes, Rea knew what it was like to want to protect someone.

"It was foolish," Clary murmured. "He was just being selfish."

Rae gave Clary a long look and then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Everything is going to be okay," she murmured. "You, and I, and Luke are going to take care of this. You're going to get Jace back, you know. I promise you'll see him again."

Clary sniffled and leaned in to Rae who was petting her hair off her head. "This is worse than the Edison Group. At least when we were there I had Jace. I can't even run after him now. I have to wait for the right moment to get him back, and I hate it _so_ _much_." Clary fell silent after that and lowered her head; Rae stayed with her for some time, just offering her companionship, but Max came padding up looking for attention.

"Am I allowed to come back in the room, or am I still too little to hear about anything?" Max glowered but there was a spark of hope in his eyes.

Clary smiled up at him through her tears. "Yes, Max, come in here. Come sit on the bed."

Max came in quickly and managed to squirm his way onto the bed between Clary and Rae. "Am I really not allowed to help you fight Valentine, Clary?"

"Max," Clary sighed, feeling suddenly very tired. "You are too young for this, and I am not going to be responsible for you. I'm sorry, but you're going to go spend the night with Luke's pack."

Max flushed, and Clary realized he been hoping Clary was going to let him go. He really thought that Clary was lying to Luke and was on Max's side. "But it's my family," he said softly.

"I know, Max, but think how horrible it will be for your brother and sister if they see you. We need to focus on fighting Valentine and his demons, not keeping an eye on you. You know Isabelle and Alec will be focusing on you."

"But I'd like to help," Max replied with a hopeful smile. "I know Luke thinks I'm too young and too inexperienced, but I can help. I swear I can!"

"Max, I can't change this," Clary said with finality. "You'll have to stay somewhere safe."

"But-"

"Well, think," Rae said quickly, and she shot a look at Clary. "You'll be hanging out with werewolves. I think that would be pretty cool, wouldn't it? You get to spend an entire night with a pack of werewolves. Think of the fun you'll get to have, the experience you'll have. How many shadowhunters can say they're spent time living with a werewolf?"

This didn't seem to cheer Max up much, because he just rolled his eyes and looked out the window. "They're just werewolves, I've met werewolves before."

"Meeting a werewolf and living with one are completely different," Rae supplied quickly. "I spent some time in a house with Derek, and he's a werewolf you know. Have you ever seen a werewolf shift?"

Max crossed his arms, eyes still in the distance, but the frown on his face softened. "I've seen it in books, and it doesn't look all that cool. Let's face it, it's just a guy growing some hair and tail."

"Just some hair and a tail?" Rae said incredulously, giggling and giving Clary a meaningful look. "Have you ever seen a man burst into a wolf skin? Really, Max, have you ever seen it?"

With pursed lips, Max peeked at Rae. "Well, no, but I have plenty of time to see it."

"Well, you won't if you run off to fight Valentine." Rae gave him a severe look, and Max managed to meet her eyes. "Max, you have your whole life ahead of you to grow and learn to fight. If you throw yourself into this battle the way you want to, you might get hurt. You might never be able to fight again."

Max glanced to Clary. "Jace fought when he was young. Jace learned how to fight before he was my age. He never gets hurt."

"Yes, he does, Max." Clary took his chin in her hand and turned his eyes on her. "Look where Jace is because he thought he was ready to fight. He got mixed up in something too big and now he's being held prisoner by Valentine. And you know what else? Jace is being hurt now, he's probably being hurt a lot, now."

Max's eyes grew wider. "No, Jace might get hurt, be he'd never admit it. Valentine can't hurt him."

"You're wrong, Max," Clary said firmly. "Jace is even now being held prisoner, and I'm sure he's in pain and even scared."

"He's not scared!" Max cried in outrage.

"He is," Rae said, quickly drawing Max away from Clary. "He's scared for everyone he loves, and that includes you. Jace is scared you're going to come and try and free him, and he'd never forgive himself if you were hurt."

"He only feels that way about Clary," Max muttered, eyeing her with something almost like jealously. "He's only scared that Clary is going to get hurt. That's why he didn't want Clary to go after him when the Edison Group took him, and he doesn't want Clary to go after him now."

"I have the choice to go, though," Clary replied, but her lip quivered slightly. She had said such horrible things to him before he left, she had been so bitter, and now the truth was staring her in the face. She had broken Jace's heart without a thought, and now he'd been taken away. Clary realized suddenly that if she failed to find Jace and rescue him, he would die with those last words in his mind. "And I will do anything to get him away from Valentine."

With those words, Clary rose imperiously and moved through the room on a wave of frantic energy. Rae rose carefully after her, and, after a thoughtful pause, took Max's hand in hers and led him from the room. Clary decided she wanted to move, to do something that would distract her from the lurking horror. She found her way to the kitchen and began to absentmindedly pick her way through the pots and pans. Rae stood in the door, holding Max still with a determined grip.

"Would you like some help with dinner, Clary?" Rae asked, cocking her hip and raising her eyebrow. Clary threw a pot on the stove and turned the heat up. It was a flash of blue that made Rae start and she felt a thrill race through her arm and into her hand. Max squinted at the flash of heat he felt.

"No, not really," Clary murmured. "You can go where you like."

"I think Max and I both want to stay here and help you cook," Rae replied firmly. "I think it'll be nice to be together until Luke gets back. Come on, Max, let's help Clary cut vegetables."

"That's okay," Clary said loudly, thinking she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. "Go play cards, Max, or practice runes."

"Speaking of runes," Rae said, "shouldn't you be drawing the Invisibility rune? It's your job to draw it."

"I need to think, and to do that, I need to be alone." Clary stirred the bubbling water, wishing Rae would just go away and take Max and his accusing eyes with her. "Let me make dinner and when Luke comes back we can all eat together. I'll have an idea by then."

"We'll stay with you," Max said sternly and then went to the fridge and removed the vegetables. Clary watched him with a frustrated look, but she wasn't going to yell at him the night before they left. As Rae set about cutting the vegetables with Max watching her closely, Clary found chicken in the freezer and went to thaw it. She watched Rae and Max and wondered how often either of them had been in such a normal situation.

"So, Rae, what do you think we'll do when this is all over?" Clary wondered aimlessly. "Once everyone is free and we can do what we like, what will we do?"

Rae smiled a little to herself. "Well, I'll go find my mother and start off right where I was when the Edison Group took me."

"You're just going to go back to the way things were?" Clary asked incredulously. "You're not going to try and work on your gift, you're not going to stay in touch? Do you want to move your mom into the city? We'll all be here."

"I don't really care where I am, so long as my mom is with me." Rae pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering. "What will you do, Clary, now that the truth is out? How are you and Jace going to cope with it?"

Clary, well aware of Max watching her closely, smiled faintly. "Jace will want to stay with the Lightwoods, I'm sure, and I'll have my mom back once this is all over. I guess…I guess Jace and I will just go back to the way we were. I love him, and I think he loves me, so we'll just go back to how we were before."

"Nothing's changed though?" Rae asked with a curious look. "You don't think you're going to need time to recover from everything? If I were you, I would take time to think and deal with everything that's wrong. I mean, I'd keep Jace around…" Rae added as she watched Clary's face harden. "You two should stick together."

"I'm never leaving him alone again," Clary vowed quietly. "After all that's happened, after the separation and the fear and pain, I'll never let him leave my sight. I don't care what anyone says, I'll spend every minute with him."

"You'll move into the Institute?" Max piped up, his face looking just a little happier and more excited. "Once all this is over you'll move into the Institute and train with us?"

"I guess if I have to," Clary said determinedly, but her mind was elsewhere. She tried to picture herself leaving her home and mom and moving into the Institute. She tried to imagine what it would be like to live in dark-paneled walls and quite solitude, and she didn't know if it was possible. She'd spent her life on the streets of New York City with a nerdy Simon and eccentric mother, how was she supposed to up and move without a thought? Could she ever truly _live _in the institute? "I will do whatever I have to do to protect Jace now."

"Will your mom let you?" Max asked curiously.

"It's not her choice anymore," said Clary in a hard voice. "My mom never told me anything about my past, about who I was, about _what _I was, and I don't think she can tell me what to do anymore. If I want to be with Jace, I'll live with him."

"You say that, Clary, but we both know you would never break your mother's heart, and if you leave her for the Institute, that's what'll happen." Luke moved into the kitchen with his hands in his pocket. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Clary, there's still a way to go."

Clary frowned up at Luke. "She should have told me the truth."

"She wanted to protect you, Clary, that's all. And you mom didn't know about the Edison Group; she didn't know about the genetic changes or the experiments. She only knew that she wanted to keep you away from your father. Don't be too mad at her."

"She lied to me," Clary said, and then turned her back on Luke and began to ladle out the soup into bowls. "If I want to be with Jace, she's not going to stop me."

Silence descended on the small group and Luke looked away with a frown. How was Clary supposed to understand the conflict her mother had been under? She had been running from Valentine, and he was not an easy man to avoid. The only choice Jocelyn had had was the hide the past from her daughter. It might have been painful for Clary, but it had kept her safe for a little while.

Dinner was a dismal affair. Clary sat and picked at her food, every now and then shooting angry looks at Luke. Max was swirling his food around his plate and thinking of his home and his family and how he wasn't going to be rescuing them with everyone else. His eyes moved from Clary to Luke speculatively, wondering if one of them was weak enough to let him come. Rae, though, seemed pleased with the situation, and felt for once that something was being done right. She liked feeling like she was going somewhere, even if it might have been to her death. At least she could say she was helping; at least she was working for a cause.

Clary finished dinner first and washed her dishes in silence. She turned to Luke, and her lip quivered just a little at the sight of him; he had been like a father for so long now it was hard to be angry with him. "I'm going to bed early. Are we leaving in the morning?"

Luke nodded, sensing her disquiet. "I think it might be best. I'll wake you in the morning if you'd like?"

"Please," Clary murmured and met his eyes. She saw nothing there but love and forgiveness, and it made Clary sick to her stomach. "Thank you," she added as she rushed from the room.

There wasn't really time for a bath, so Clary just shucked her day clothes and curled up under the covers of the bed. It only took a minute or so for the warmth to spread through her body, and she was sure the telltale scent of Jace lingered. Clary wanted to cry just then, but nothing came out of her throat but a painful sigh.

But Clary knew as she fell asleep that that sigh had been filled with all the pain and loss and fear she'd been feeling for days.

Clary knew instinctively that she was dreaming, but it was so real it sickened her. She was watching the Institute from the opposite side of the street, cars passing in slow motion and noises from the city echoing around her distantly. There were no people on the streets, no children running around, no adults walking the streets. It was empty but for the passing cars and buildings. The Institute rose up from the dull city, and Clary saw a pulsing light coming from the top of it, almost like a beacon.

Without thought or volition Clary moved toward the building, and as she drew closer, she registered the light growing. She came to the gates and pushed but it didn't give, so she clung to the bars, watching the light and waiting for something to happen. She watched with dull interest as the shadows that circled the Institute swirled and shaped themselves and Clary found herself was legions of demons prowling about, their eyes glowing red and watching her hungrily. Behind them the Institute had taken on a terrifying appearance. Its walls had turned to black stone and there was fire in the windows.

She realized then that the gate that wouldn't give wasn't meant to keep her out, but to keep the demons in.

Suddenly, the light at the top of the Institute burst and the demons below it quailed. Clary watched in awe as they fell forward in horror, trying desperately to cover themselves from the light. The demons scrambled to find cover, dodging each others desperate search and trying to rush the gate, but the gate, though made of simple, fragile metal bars, didn't give an inch.

The light at the top of the tower intensified and Clary watched as it plummeted to the group. The demons cried in horrible voices and the shadows rushed around them, but the light hit the ground with an explosion. It was amazing, breathtaking, Clary thought, to watch as waves of light shot form from the illuminated being and burned the demons as it hit them. Waves upon waves of demons fell, their last screeches echoing into the distance, and the glowing figure turning about slowly, until it was facing Clary.

"Jace!" Clary cried, throwing herself against the gate as best she could. The bars shook under her weight, moaning and groaning in protest, and Jace's face, because it was clearly Jace, lit up in hope. "Oh, God, Jace, quickly, get out of there!"

Jace drew a step closer and then paused, watching her thoughtfully. Very slowly, he smiled and then stretched his arms. Clary gasped as a pair of white wings traced his arms. He shook his head a little at her surprise, as if to ask if she'd expected anything less. He moved just a little closer and Clary felt the cold metal bars press against her as she tried to reach Jace through them.

"Please, just come a little closer, and I'll help you," Clary breathed, and she reached her hand through the bars. "Let me get you out of there, Jace."

Hope lit up his face and Jace lowered his wings and began to move closer, but Clary saw something move swiftly behind Jace. It was just a flicker of a shadow, a blink of the eye, but something about it drew Clary's attention, and she felt something cold slip up her spine.

"Hurry Jace!" she cried, but the shadow lunged.

Jace turned about, looking ready to fight, but he was too slow. The dark thing moved into the light and lunged for Jace. Clary saw a lithe figure cut across the ground and hit Jace hard enough to send him down to the ground. The two struggled, but it was clear to Clary that the other figure was the better fighter. After a moment of furious struggle, a terrible ripping sound was heard and the figure stood up.

Clary saw his face and knew something was wrong with what she was seeing. It was a young man, Jace's age or a little older, with clear skin, dark eyes and white blond hair. He was beautiful, that much Clary knew, but looking at him made her sick; there was something terrible about the way he watched her. Clary saw that his hands were red with blood, and she swallowed a scream.

Jace's wings had been torn terribly, so deeply he couldn't fly, and she saw his face contort in pain.

Clary began to pound of the bars until they began cracking under her hands. The boy, who had been laughing at her, suddenly frowned, and when he saw the bars begin to break, he fell back. Jace curled up on the ground, but his eyes remained on Clary, urging her to come get him. Help him…protect him…

"Get away!" she screamed at the boy, and shoved her way through the bars.

The boy fell back, vanishing into the shadows as Clary landed on the ground by Jace's side. She cupped his face in her hand and kissed his cheeks. He smiled up at her weakly but didn't speak, and Clary knew she had come too late. Tears sprung to her eyes and she began to sob, holding Jace against her.

Clary knew the dream was ending, she watched the fog move in, swirling around her and blotching out the nightmare, but there was something else closing in. Clary could feel that someone was watching her and Jace, and it was drawing nearer. She looked around rapidly, but wouldn't let go of Jace. When a hand touched her shoulder on her birthmark, she jumped.

_I've sent you this dream, this nightmare, this warning, Clarissa Morgenstern,_ said a soft voice in her head. Clary turned and beheld an angel, a _real _angel, looking down at her. He had gold hair, gold skin, gold eyes, gold wings. His lips didn't move, but his voice was all around. _You can break the gates of Hell, but only he can hold them back. Don't fail me, child of mine. Bring the glorious age of peace and prosperity and power the Shadowhunters._

A question came to her mind suddenly, but Jace coughed and blood splattered her front. The angel gazed at her long and hard, and there was an order in his look, but the face faded. Clary turned back to Jace, but his form was fading too. The last thing she saw was Jace's gold eyes, full of hope and love.

Clary woke with a start, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the light changing the wood to pink. She was breathing heavy, the last vestiges of the dream lingering. She thought she would be haunted by Jace's face, but it wasn't his golden eyes that continued to stare at her. It was the angel, the one who had come with the message

Clary swallowed and clamped her hands into fists. "Why should I?" she asked, just as she'd wanted to in the dream. "Why hold back the gates of Hell?"


	13. Imposter

Imposter 

"You're okay, then? Are you sure you don't need anything? I have a little access to food and bandages, if you want those. I just feel so useless sitting around and doing nothing while you all are trapped down here."

Isabelle leaned against the bars of the Alec's cell and looked deep into his eyes. He tried to look away and keep the pain hidden safely away, but his sister knew him much better. She could see how desperate he looked, how drawn and tired his face was. When Isabelle turned away from Alec, she saw the same look reflected in all her friends' faces. It was horrible to have to come down into the shadows of the basement, but she felt as if she belonged nowhere else.

"Please, Izzy," came Jace's voice. "Don't get yourself into trouble for us. Just keep doing what Valentine says."

Isabelle didn't leave Alec's side, but she turned all her attention of Jace. "You don't know what it's like, Jace. All I do is sit in my room and wander around the Institute, and Valentine follows me around. I hate having him watching me, acting as if I'm a willing member of all of this. I have to listen to him make plans for taking Idris, and I go to all the meetings, and I have to help, and…and I just hate all of this!"

"Because we don't," Derek said caustically. Isabelle shot him a frown. "Yes, all of us here are incredibly comfortable. In fact, we're considering asking Valentine if he'll let us live down here permanently. Do you think he'll mind much?"

"I know!" Isabelle cried. "I know it's horrible and know you're having a horrible time, but I don't know what to do. That's why I'm offering you some help. Please, let me help you."

"Isabelle, no," Alec said firmly. "No matter what happens to us, you can't risk getting yourself hurt. As long as you're working for Valentine, he won't kill us. You're the only thing that stops him from ending our lives."

"How can I be expected to sit here and let you suffer while I just lounge around?" Isabelle asked, the desperation and longing in her voice. "I feel like I'm becoming less and less of a shadowhunter every day. I just want to scream!"

"Scream all you want, Isabelle, just keep doing what Valentine says," Alec replied.

"But I'm being useless-"

Jace stirred a little at the idea of Isabelle sitting there hopelessly. He studied her tense profile and her glowing eyes, and an idea came to his mind slowly. "Isabelle, do you want to do something for me? Something that might help us stop Valentine's plan?"

Isabelle looked as though she'd been struck by lightning, she sat up so straight. Her eyes darted to Jace and a small smile was curling over her lips. "What you got in mind?"

"Valentine was going on about how much he wanted to get Clary back, and he had me write her a letter, begging her to come back." Jace rubbed his arm inconspicuously, hoping Isabelle wouldn't see the movement. "I figure that if he wants Clary so bad, maybe if we stop him, it'll ruin part of his plans."

"You want me to steal the letter?" Isabelle asked, her eyes shining with excitement. "Do you know where he's keeping it?"

"It must be in the library where he keeps his desk," Jace said quickly, ignoring the furious look on Alec's face. "If you can sneak in there and burn the letter we may be able to stop him."

"But he'll notice the letter is gone!" Alec said at once. "Valentine is no fool, Jace. He'll just have you write another one."

"Well, I'd rather have to keep writing letters than have one actually sent," Jace muttered.

"No, Jace," Derek said. "Alec is right. There's no point in taking the letter from Valentine, but is there a way to write a new one? "

"What do you mean?" Jace asked sharply.

"I mean, what if you wrote a new letter and Valentine sent the new one to Clary?" Derek's mind was moving rapidly, jumping from place to place in quick succession. "It could be a plan of some sort, or even just a warning. Anything that would give Clary the upper hand over Valentine."

"That's not half bad, bro," Simon mused. "Maybe, Jace, you could give Clary directions to where we're being held, and warn her about Jonathan. He's probably going to be worse than Valentine when it comes right down to it. She and Luke might be able to make a plan to beat him."

Jace paled a little at the idea of Clary meeting her brother. Jonathan was not easily dealt with, and Clary was in no position to be picking a fight with him. "I don't know if I want her coming here at all," Jace murmured guiltily.

Both Isabelle and Tori fixed Jace with a stare that could have curdled milk. "How can you say that?" Tori demanded, her hands already shaking with pent up rage. "Valentine is keeping us locked in cages, and has every intention of doing it until we die, and you want to keep the only person who can possible help us away? Have you gone completely insane?"

Jace flared. "I will not send Clary to her death."

"When are you going to accept that she's not some helpless little girl?" Chloe sighed loudly. "You keep treating her like she's a child, but now you've got not choice, Jace. Clary is the only person who can help us now."

"She's not ready to fight-"

"Neither were any of us!" Chloe returned. "Do you think me or Derek or Rae or Simon were ready to fight? I grew up living in posh apartments, and have just recently begun living on the streets. None of the four of us were trained to be warriors, but we came anyway. You have to let Clary come."

"I love her," Jace said simply, but his eyes were downcast. "I would do anything to keep her from coming here. I grew up with Valentine, and I know what he'll do to Clary if he gets his hands on her. I couldn't live with myself if I let her come to me."

"You know what I hear," Chloe said, and her voice softened. "All you keep saying is 'I', but this isn't about just you, Jace. I know you love Clary, and I know you want her to be safe, but there are more lives at stake than you realize. This isn't just about you, or even about the rest of us trapped down here, this is about the rest of the shadowhunters, and even about the rest of the Downworlders."

"She's right, Jace," Isabelle said. "If Clary doesn't stop Valentine now, he'll move out and take over the Clave. And once he has the Clave under his command, he'll send them out to destroy all the Downworlders. He'll kill everyone who isn't one of us. Then what?"

"He'll move onto the humans," put in Magnus. "He has admitted once that if he has the Mortal Cup he can make a new race of shadowhunters. He'll demand that the humans surrender their children to him. What can they do stop him?"

"Well, what can Clary do?" Jace asked, though everyone in the cellar could hear the surrender. "She doesn't have the training or the skills to stop him."

"But, combined, we do," Chloe said at once. "We just need to be free of this place."

Jace bowed his head to the inevitable. "I'll write the letter."

Tori gave a thankful sigh. "Let her know how to get down here in the safest, fastest way possible. She'll be able to let us out, and we can meet Isabelle on the second level, and then we can end this."

"How do you propose we end this?" Jace asked sharply.

"We'll figure that out when we're out of these cages," Magnus answered, looking Jace over smugly. "Just write the damn latter."

Isabelle vanished up the steps in a flurry of dark hair. She held onto the door that led to the cellar, listening carefully to the other side and checking that no one unsavory was waiting there. She slipped through the door and down the many halls, making sure to walk on carpet wherever she went to muffle the fall of her footsteps. When she reached the doors to the library, she placed her palms on the door and pressed it open inch by inch to stop the inevitable creaking. When it had only been open a crack, she darted in and down the bookshelves to the desk at the very end.

Here, she paused, looking as the polished mahogany and the high-backed chair. It was an awful risk to take the letter, and if caught, could result in any number of innocent people being killed. But, just looking at the desk reminded her of Hodge, and how he had resided there since she had been a little girl. He had been killed by Valentine, maybe not physically, but he was dead. His memory was gone, only to be replaced by the image of a traitor and a thief, and it was Valentine's fault. He was the poison of so many roots.

Isabelle took a deep breath and cleared the distance between herself and the desk. Her hands hit the drawer where the letter was with a pulsing energy, and she jerked the drawer open. Inside, as she expected, was the letter and sealed envelope. One quick motion and the letter was in her hand. She slammed the drawer shut, snatched a pen and note from the table, and backed away from the desk as quickly and quietly as she could.

The trip back to the cellar was like a victory march. She didn't meet Valentine or Jonathan, and the door to the cellar remained how she had left it: slightly ajar. No one was down there, tormenting her friends and family, and the chance to stop Valentine was wide open. Back down the stairs, and back into the stuffy, dark room where her family was being held.

When she returned, a collective sigh escaped the crowd. "You got the letter?" Chloe asked hopefully. "You weren't caught or stopped?"

"If she had been, do you really think she'd be here now?" asked Tori, but there was a frantic note of hope in her voice too.

"It all went fine, but I don't know where Valentine it, so the faster you write this, Jace, the better." Isabelle slipped the paper and pen through the bars of Jace's cell, and carefully went to work on the envelope. Using a small knife allowed to her by Valentine, Isabelle managed to cut the seal cleanly and remove the blood-inked note. She stared at the paper a minute before reached up to the nearest torch and lighting it on fire. Jace, meanwhile, had set to work on the letter.

He carefully gave instructions on how to reach the basement, and gave an explicit warning not to try and engage Jonathan in any fight. As he finished off his instructions, he added a desperate note at the bottom:

_I'm sorry I ever hurt you, Clary. I love you._

Somehow, he hoped, Clary would believe the message and forgive him for the horrible things he'd done. And it was with that desperate wish that Jace folded the letter and handed it back to Isabelle through the bars. She didn't read it, but slid it into the envelope and looked expectantly at Magnus.

"I can't reseal the letter, Magnus, so I'm hoping you've got enough magic in you to do it."

Magnus scrunched up his nose at her. "What kind of High Warlock would not have the ability to seal an envelope? Really, Isabelle, sometimes I wonder if being away from the clubs and nightlife of New York had driven you mad."

Isabelle handed him the envelope with a smirk. "You and me both, Magnus."

Magnus took the envelope and pinched it between his fingers, running them along the length of the opening. It glowed green for just a minute, and then he handed it back to Isabelle looking pleased. "I think that ought to do it for a letter. Now, run along and hide that back in Valentine's desk. The faster you do that, the better, I think."

Isabelle clutched the letter close to her, but her eyes fell on Jace, who was staring off through the bars of his cell. "Thank you, Jace, for doing this. I know how hard it must have been for you."

Jace heaved a sigh, but when he turned to face Isabelle, his eyes seemed to have a faint, hopeful light in them. "We can't stay here forever, and if Clary is the only person who can get us out, I guess I'll have to call on her." Isabelle, at a loss for words, nodded and turned and fled up the stairs.

Watching her go, Chloe felt her heart thump a little faster. It was the same feeling, the same excited, desperate feeling, that she got when they first found out Alec and Isabelle were coming to rescue them from the Edison Group. They were running out of time all over again, and for some reason, it made every small victory seem that much greater. Just watching Isabelle go made her body sing with hope. But, looking over at Jace, she realized that as great as any small victory felt, any small risk was like a mountain collapsing on a person.

Jace was hunched over, and his face was blank and lost. She knew he wanted Clary back painfully, but he would never risk putting her in danger unless it was absolutely necessary. This was one of those horrible times when Jace was going to have to put Clary in danger, and it was settling on him like a wet blanket. He wasn't comfortable with it, he could barely move with the weight. It was almost too much for him.

"You can't feel guilty, Jace," Chloe said, eyeing him speculatively. "Clary isn't some helpless little girl anymore, and you know it. You watched her at Lyle House and the Edison Group, and you know what she's capable of. Clary is ready for something like this, ready to fight Valentine on her own."

"You say I can't feel guilty, but I do," Jace replied, and looked up at Chloe. "You tell me not to feel bad, to trust that everything is going to be fine, to believe that Clary and Luke are going to pull through. But, for some reason, I feel miserable. I should never have drawn Clary into this life."

"It wasn't your choice, though," said Magnus, and his voice seemed to be very clear and reasonable in the cellar. "You're not god, Jace, and you don't get to decide what happens to Clary. If every person who ever loved someone had the ability to protect that person, there would be no war, no crime, no danger."

"I could have protected her. I-I could have stayed behind," he murmured. "I should have stayed with Clary, just like she said. If I had stayed behind, she and I would be coming together now to help you. She wouldn't be alone."

"Yes, she would," said Tori loudly. "Come on, Jace, do you really not know yourself that well? If you had stayed behind and received a letter from Valentine, you would have made Clary stay behind anyway, just so you would know she's safe. This is the only way you're finally going to admit that Clary is ready to be on her own."

Jace frowned, a little confused. "Do you think I would really have done that?"

"Do you need a show of hands?" Tori asked, and smiled around the cellar. "You're in love with Clary, and you're not going to let her fight unless you have absolutely no choice."

With a half-hearted laugh, Jace said, "So, according to you, this is the only way that I was ever going to let Clary go into battle without me? There is no force in the world, no power of heaven or hell, that would have stopped me but Valentine?"

"Well," said Tori, and she was smirking, "when you put it like that it makes it sound as if we've got the very Devil on our hands, but, yeah, I think this is the only way."

Jace smiled darkly. "We do have the very Devil on our hands," he said, his mind on his step brother, "but I don't think we're talking about Valentine."

* * *

><p>"Clary, are you awake?" Luke asked, holding the door to her room open only a little. "Clary?"<p>

"I'm up," she said softly, her mind still on the nightmare and the message from the angel. "Is it time to go?"

Luke glanced over his shoulder as Max, who slouched by with a very dour look. "Well, it's time to get up and get our stuff together. Rae is downstairs making breakfast right now, it smells like pancakes and bacon."

Clary wondered vaguely if, not matter what catastrophes were occurring over the world, a guy will always be concerned with the aspects of a meal. She sat up and rubbed her arms, yawning and trying to force the image of Jace's torn wings from her mind. "When will we be leaving? I can probably get another hour of sleep-"

"I'd rather you eat something before we go, Clary. There's a long day ahead of us, and it's best to start on a full stomach." Luke opened the door wide and came in. He saw the look on her face and frowned. "Are you not feeling alright, Clary?"

"I'm fine, Luke, just tired." She swung her legs around and placed her feet on the cold wood floor. It made her wish for those few days she'd spent each night with Jace. It didn't matter how cold the night had been, she was always warm. "I'd like to have this day over and done with soon."

"Come downstairs and eat, it will wake you up. I'm sure you'll feel better after a meal." Luke wandered over to Clary and helped her to her feet. She seemed a little lost, but her grip, once on Luke, was steadfast.

The two made their way down to the kitchen where Rae really was preparing a meal. When she saw Clary, Rae gave her a small smile and offered up a plate of pancakes. "You look starved, have a bite to eat before we get moving."

"I'm not really-"

"Eat, Clary," Luke ordered, not unkindly, and placed her at the table. "We have a long time ahead of us. Try to relax and eat until we have to go."

Clary watched Luke leave the kitchen, her eyes narrowed as she picked at the pancakes. How was she supposed to relax when everyone she cared about was in danger? Her thoughts swirled as she turned her attention back to her food. It was then, as she was staring at her food, that the fire in the living area burst into life and a letter was expelled from the flames.


End file.
